Crystal Warrior: Through All Eternity (Atlantean Crystal Saga Book 1) (37 page)

The buzz of voices about the room following Lord Maden’s stiff-backed departure, stilled. All eyes watched for the King’s reaction. Ignoring his rabon’s blatant rebuke as if he’d not even heard it, Taur came down off the dais with slow, measured steps, his gaze never faltering from Gynevra's.

‘Your wolf’s eyes say more about you than I realized, Princess,’ he snarled. Gripping her upper arms through the cloak, he hauled her up against his chest. ‘I gave you a child when your clod of a Prince could not! I saved you from starvation and from becoming an exquisite living corpse like your Movuon. Show your gratitude by kissing the feet of your Savior King.’

A flash-fire of uncontrollable fury ripped through Gynevra. Breaking from his hold and turning her back on his damnable arrogance, she strode towards the great doors. She’d no idea where she was going. Out of sight or sound of Taur of Nyalda was her only thought. Just by being, by breathing, he could overset all her training, undermine her control and usurp her powers of thought. He was and always had been a threat to her self-hood. If she was ever to be able to live life as it was ordained for her, she must do so far from his physical presence.

She’d scarcely taken four steps when he gripped her shoulder and spun her around. Between one breath and the next he’d bundled her in her cloak and hefted over his shoulder like the sack of grain she'd mentioned to Cielcif only a few hours earlier. Swinging about, he strode to a door in the opposite corner of the Chamber. The fury she’d felt moments before was nothing to that which raged through her now.

She could see nothing but the floor beneath his feet. Her hair streamed down in a thick, tangled curtain. She couldn't get her hands free to beat or scratch. He held her legs so she couldn't kick. Her only recourse was to buck and scream abuse at him, but at first she couldn't even do that for the shock and the fact he'd punched all the air from her lungs by the force with which he'd tossed her over his shoulder. The chamber reverberated with sibilant gasps and guttural growls. Several male voices applauded and one wanted to know if their King might need some assistance.

Then one female voice spoke above the rest.

‘I won't be standing down from my throne for one such as she!’

Taur about-faced and his harsh tones rang through the suddenly silent hall.

‘You're my movuon, not my Queen. You've held that position and power too long already. Your future place is as great-movuon to my children. I've chosen Gynevra of Poseidonia to bear them. She'll be my Queen, and you and everyone else in Nyalda will acknowledge her as such.—Now!’

The last word was a martial order that echoed back off the stones of the hall. Long before the resonance had faded there was a rustle of gowns and a shuffling of feet followed by utter silence.

Chapter 21

His movuon! How pointless the raw jealousy gnawing her vitals at sight of the woman on the Queen's throne at his side. Her fury drained away, leaving her shamed by her angry outburst. She had much to learn about this man. She’d ignored his greeting and words of welcome, had been abusive, even committed the crime of turning her back on his regal majesty. Yet, as he held her in such a position as to publicly declare his intention to punish her, he demanded his people fall to their knees to acknowledge her their Queen.

She didn’t know whether the woman he’d called ‘movuon’ knelt or not. What she did know was that while she hung upside down over his shoulder the Paggi elite of Nyalda were paying obeisance to her. And all she could see was the floor or the tantalizing curve of his leather clad buttocks—or the naked, straining tendons of his back! She opened her mouth and sank her teeth in as hard as she could manage. It was more of a graze really, for she could scarcely get a bite of the taut, oiled muscle but it was enough to remind him of her presence.

‘You'll pay for that, Golden One,’ he snarled, swinging round and stalking through a door at the far end of the vast chamber, into darkness.

With little apparent thought for her comfort, Taur strode the dark tunnel hewn into the mountain as if through a well-lit hall. Gynevra twisted and bucked in an effort to slip from his grasp but his arms were as unyielding as the rock through which they passed.

‘Where are you taking me, you lame-brained meilad?’

‘I'm taking you somewhere your screams won't be heard when I beat you—like a meilad.’

Thrusting through a leather door-hanging they erupted into filtered sunlight and began climbing upwards.

A light wind rustled through trees and the crisp, clean scent of fir forest heightened her senses. Had he been Gotham she'd have been terrified for her life but even though by comparison she'd spent very little time with King Cadal Isidor, she knew instinctively he'd not harm her.

‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded again, though less stridently.

His silence was infuriating, the power of his stride up the steep cliff path amazing. But she couldn't be still and passively await her fate at his hands.

‘What are you going to do to me? Where are we?’

‘On the back of Castle Crags,’ he growled.

Coming to a sudden halt, he dragged her body slowly down the hard planes of his own, setting flash-fires dancing through her bloodstream. Then he pressed her back against one of the massive fir trees between which the track climbed. The roughness of the bark against her back was only a fleeting sensation through the thick fur cloak but the front of her body throbbed and ached at every point of contact with his.

‘You talk too much, Golden One.’

He allowed her no time to regain breath, let alone wonder again at his intentions. His fingers thrust into the tangle of her hair and pushed it back off her face. His mouth closed over hers. He smelled of Temple incense and expensive body oil, mingled with another scent that was wholly Taur, wholly male. It was all it took to trigger the memories, the responses. The touch of his lips stole the stars from the sky, slipping them into her bloodstream until her whole being danced and sparkled.

He turned her mind to corn mush. It was difficult to remember she was supposed to be angry, let alone why. Only Taur had ever had this effect on her. Whatever emotion he stirred in her, be it love, anger or jealousy, it was deep and passionate, all-consuming. She'd never felt so alive.

He lifted his head to gaze quizzically down at her while gently brushing errant strands of hair back from her face.

‘Princess, you look like you've been hung upside down for a while,’ he drawled, green eyes afire with satisfaction.

Just as swiftly the softness and pliancy vanished. Before the intention had fully formed in her mind she jabbed at his nose with her closed fist—and connected. It had never been like this with Gotham. She'd argued and fought but always with a cold fury that never touched her heart. With Taur, even anger came straight from her heart. Ibn Ist, how could she go on living without him?

‘You witch,’ he snarled, grabbing her wrists. With a deft twist he had her draped around his neck once again, her wrists still firmly gripped in one hand, his other arm hooked round her knees. Wriggle and jerk and curse him as she might, he continued striding up the path, only stopping when they came to a cave guarded by two warriors wearing Nyaldan helmets.

Their King brusquely commanded, ‘Go down and guard the entrance to the path. Don’t return until I command it and make sure none other comes here either.’

‘Ta’a, Sire!’ the two chimed in unison, their mouths twisted in appreciative smirks. Their King was a true oaf!

Gynevra longed to be able to fight him like a man! How dare he humiliate her in this fashion?

Without slowing his stride he entered a dimly lit passage that twisted and climbed into the rock from the cave entrance. At the top of a flight of stairs was a heavy door, which Taur thrust open with his foot. Once inside he lowered her to the floor and keeping a firm grip on her wrists, dropped the locking bar in place across the back of the door, and removed the cover from a single, small ilmenite lamp.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, Gynevra realized they were in the royal stadrag. The place was well furnished with rows of bulging hide money sacks and nothing else. Why had he brought her here?

‘Because I thought the sight of so much uson might change your mind about leaving.’

The iron hard tone of his voice drew her eyes to his. They were dark, flat and watchful. His mouth too, was tensed and grim.

‘High uson could never be an issue between us. Why here, really?’ she demanded quietly, locking her gaze with his until a slow, devilish gleam lit the emerald depths.

‘Because there is little privacy in the Castle—and when you cry out for me it will delight my ears only!’

No words could have told her more clearly that Taur wanted to join with her for his own pleasure rather than as public proof of his virility or majesty. How could she ever withstand him when he touched her through every sense, then appropriated her mind also? Resist him she must, or all would be lost. She had Archinus training, didn’t she? She must fight; not only Taur but herself.

Before she could match thought to action he’d unfastened her cloak, throwing it on to the nearest sacks. As she struggled to get free of him, he gripped the front of her gown with both hands and ripped.

Snatching at the edges of the fabric, she cried, ‘You great Paggi arabo! Now I've nothing to wear but the bed-gown they gave me at Hecanil!’

‘You might as well wear it for a gown because you won't be needing it in bed,’ he growled.

Thrusting her back onto the cloak and holding her there effortlessly with one warrior-strong hand, he unfastened his kirt with the other and threw it aside.

‘I've been waiting for this, Golden One, and I've waited long enough. I'd have been gentle had you come willingly but you've excited me beyond reason and gentle I can't promise but—ecstasy—I—can!’

Bracing herself for a violent penetration, Gynevra was startled by the closure of his mouth on her breast and the bolts of fire arrowed to her groin by the avidity of his suckling. Her blood sang with desire and throbbed with passion. The signature scent of him drawn in with every breath was an explosion in her mind, wiping it clear of thought or awareness, of anger or responsibility to anyone other than herself. This man, only ever this man could bring her to where thought no longer existed, and he could do it with only a word, a look, or a touch.

He was what she'd incarnated for.

He moved to her other nipple and her body arched to his, a cry of need erupting from her throat. With an answering growl he released her wrists, hands sliding down her arms to cup and knead her breasts as he suckled.

Free at last to respond to their own need, her hands tangled in the thick, silken ropes of his hair, glissaded over oiled muscle of bulging shoulders and biceps, and slid up to the delicate skin of his earlobes.

With a deep soft groan, Taur lifted his head and the flame of desire in his eyes flared hot enough to scorch. Gynevra moistened suddenly dry lips. Her whole being burned. Their mouths fused; tongues tangled in a dance of joyous recognition; bodies melded in an old and perfect knowledge.

‘Open for me,’ he rasped, nudging at her thighs with his knees. ‘Let me kindle your fire.’

As at the turn of a magic key, her legs parted for him and he thrust deep and sure with a guttural cry of triumph echoing her reflexive gasp of elation.

In a moment of blinding awareness, Gynevra understood total fulfilment, such as she'd experienced but twice before, both times in the arms of Taur of Nyalda. This man was her destiny—her past, her present, and her future.

‘Keep the bars of my prison secure! Please don't ever let me go!’

Powerless to withhold it, the cry erupted from her heart. She'd found that which she'd sought all her life.

This man. This passion. This belonging.

Thrusting with his hips, Taur reared up on his arms and fixed her with the emerald fire of his gaze.

‘You are mine—always!’ he vowed, and began rhythmically pounding his body into hers.

In no time at all, the passion that blazed in her belly, flamed through her whole being, the power of it issuing from her in cries of ecstasy.

‘My woman, my Queen!’ he growled over and over, in counterpoint to her cries. Then, as the life force ejaculated from him, he reared back, body rigid with passion, and shouted in a voice reverberating all around the cave, ‘Mine!’

The echoes of his cry rolled around her, the sound component of the energy web that held her captive in Nyalda. Their lower bodies strained together in the physical ecstasy that would draw them forever together. The rhythm of heart and lungs pulsed in oneness as natural as breath itself. The essence of him ensorcelled her and she was his willing victim.

‘Golden One.’

The words were little more than a whispered vibration super-imposed over that already encompassing them.

But Gynevra heard them and opened her eyes. Hair a tangle of midnight silk about his shoulders, eyes blazing as from a great victory, head crowned with the golden horns of Nyalda, he poised above her on arms taut with strength and power. In that moment the Archinus she strove to be, lost the battle with the woman she truly was.

‘
Always. Would I could wake to this always.’

‘Your thought is mine. Of all the women I could take as my Queen, I desire only you.’

‘But I cannot be your Queen.’

‘I will never let you go.’

‘I pray you never do. But I warn you, if I find a way, I must return to Qrazil. I have no choice in that.’

‘I promise you will never find a way.’

Slowly Taur lowered his body to hers and rolled sideways enfolding her in his arms and holding her close.

‘Ah, Gyn'a, Gyn'a, Gyn'a,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘What have you done to me? You are the sun, the moon, the stars in my sky. You are the jewel in my crown.’

‘Yet you didn't come!’ she cried, flinging her head back and fixing him with a fiery glare. ‘Every day and every night I longed to see you but you never came.’ Ashamed at her outburst, she hid her head against his chest. Where was her strength, her ability to
be
within herself? He'd stolen it. ‘It seemed you'd kidnapped me only to abandon me,’ she finished in a whisper.

‘I am the King, Gyn'a. I must be seen to act as King. Which meant I must stay away from you until you were fit for my Kingly attentions. I knew I couldn't be gentle, nor could I be sparing of you.’ He pressed his lower body against hers. ‘You see? Already I desire you again. Mount me. Ride me to paradise. Now, woman!’

Needing no further urging, Gynevra rose above him, straddled his thighs and took his rigid penis in her hands.

‘Promise me this is no dream,’ she begged as she kneaded the hardening muscle.

‘This—is—no—dream,’ Taur rasped, snatching the golden horns from his head and rolling them across the sacks of money.

With a sigh of pure joy she lowered her lips to caress his throbbing potency. Taur gasped from low in his belly, gripped her hips and guided her down onto his straining flesh. With an upward thrust and a deep groan of satisfaction, he slid his hands up to cup her breasts.

‘Ride me. Come with me to the stars.’

Their bodies heard the same music, pulsed to the same beat. Only with Taur, only ever with Taur had it been like this. Sweet Goddess, if it could only always be!

When he carried her from the cave stars hung, brilliant and sparkling, in the ebony sky above them. A salty tang overlaid the pine-scented air and from a far mountain ridge came the eerie call of a wolf. Gynevra laid her head back against Taur's shoulder with a long sigh of repletion. Just for this night she'd not allow herself to think of Qrazil or her responsibilities as Archinus Elect. For this night she'd be Gynevra, a woman in complete attunement with her world and the man who held her in his arms.

May the Goddess forgive her, but for this night she just wanted to be loved even though she knew her Paggi warrior would never admit to such a weakness.