Earth & Sky (17 page)

He released me and I was happy to see a bit of his usual
humor returning to his eyes.  He raked a gaze over me and I realized that my
shirt was soaked through, clinging wetly to my body. 

I closed my eyes and told myself to get out of there, now.  There
was a splash as Ville stood.  I turned and left the room, not letting myself
look back.  Ville’s deep chuckle followed me from the room.

When he emerged a few minutes later, I was curled up on
one side of the big bed.  I had managed to find a pair of pajamas in his
wardrobe to replace my damp clothing.  I waved to him as he entered the room,
the big rolled up cuff of my sleeve flapping down over my wrist.  “I hope you
don’t mind,” I said sheepishly as he took in my ensemble.

He grinned.  “You can wear my clothes any time you want.”

I frowned at him suspiciously.  “Should I go back to my
own room?”  I really didn’t want to.  I still felt a bit panicked over being
away from him.  However, the thought of him sleeping next to me made my chest
flutter for an entirely different reason.

He shook his head.  “I’m not a threat to anything other
than that pillow.”  He pointed at the puffy piece of heaven at the head of the
bed.

I smiled and slipped under the covers, nervous and
suddenly awkward.  Ville turned down his side and extinguished the light orb on
the bedside table.  He had left the shutters ajar, and silver moonlight
streamed in to touch the floor a few feet away from the bed.

Ville climbed into bed beside me.  I lay on my side,
facing away from him and he slid close, his head on my pillow, and his long,
hard body curled around mine.  He slipped an arm around my waist, just under my
breasts.  “Will you let me hold you?”

The sound of his deep voice resonated through his broad
chest and rumbled against my back.  I sighed and let the tension flow out of
me.  “I suppose,” I said in a long-suffering tone, hiding my smile.

He chuckled and snuggled me closer, twitching to get his
wings settled.  It was no more than a few minutes before I felt his breathing
slow and deepen, as he slipped off to sleep.  I snuggled closer into his
embrace, tucking my folded hands under my chin and drifted off to join him.

I
sat on the low stone wall in Ville’s garden.  The walls of the mansion enclosed
the little plot.  The only way in was through Ville’s room or a small door off
the private living area.  It was unbelievably quiet this far within the house,
peaceful.  A fat robin hopped from branch to branch in the small magnolia
tree.  It disturbed a few dark leaves and they fell to the ground, heralding
the looming arrival of fall.  I couldn’t believe how quickly my days here had
turned into weeks.  There was a soft scrunch of footsteps on the path behind
me.  Distracted, I assumed it was Ville.

 “I feel like I’m in a dream,” I said wistfully.

The voice that answered me wasn’t Ville’s rich bass.  “Do
you?”

Startled, I whirled to face Marshall.  He sat beside me on
the wall and I scrambled for composure.  “You looked so different just now,” he
mused, giving me a rakish grin.  “So pretty and … soft.”

I was immediately on guard, not trusting his smooth charm
and his playful joker’s smile.  There was a sarcastic edge to it. 

“What are your feelings for Ville?” 

The sudden question caught me off guard.  He raised an
eyebrow at me, waiting for an answer.  “I don’t care about politics, or what
influence you might have on his decisions.  What I want to know is what your
feelings are.”

I stood and paced in front of the fragrant tree.  “I don’t
know….”  I stopped and crossed my arms.  “It’s none of your business, anyway.”

“It is my business.  Ville isn’t just an emperor.  I don’t
follow him because he rules me.  He is my friend, my family.  He’s never been
suited for this role…but we need him.  I know, without a doubt, that he will
change the world.”  He gave me a direct look, all joking gone.  “Will you be
with him when he does?”

I suddenly felt the weight of my relationship in a way I
never had.  Ville was so important to so many people.  And what was I in all of
this?  A runaway.  An unwanted guest.  An inconvenient distraction.

“What do you know of the war?”  Marshall’s voice was flat,
tired.

I shrugged.  “As much as you, I suppose.”  He raised an
eyebrow at me as if he suspected that to be a lie.  He might not know who I
was, but I think after our little sparring session, he could draw some
conclusions.  If Ibbe hadn’t already blabbed.

A leaf landed on his pants, and he flicked it away,
watching it flutter to the ground.  “Who started the war?”

“Your clan,” I said immediately.  “Your people
assassinated my moth…uh… the queen.”

His dark eyes met mine and he smirked, but he didn’t
comment on my slip-up.  “In our histories, it’s different.  It was your clan
who started the war.”  He looked up at me, as if willing me to understand.  “Someone
wants us to fight.”  More leaves fluttered to the ground.  I was silent,
thinking. 

“I think it would be good if you loved him,” he said
softly.  I looked at him in surprise, not knowing what to say.  “It would be
good if someone wanted to stop the fighting.”

He stood and left, calling a warm greeting to Ville as he
entered the garden.  Unease walked up my spine.  I knew that our histories were
different.  But what was Marshall getting at?

V
ille
shifted in his seat, twitching his shoulders to take the pressure off his
wings.  He slid the folder containing the action report back to his head
strategist, an old friend of his father’s. 

“Thank you for the detailed report, Sigrid.”  He leaned
forward, placing his elbows on the shiny oak meeting table.  “You’ve all done a
good job honoring my request to keep our movements defensive only.”

The generals didn’t seem pleased.  They were a matched
pair that he referred to in his head as Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum.  Though
not physically similar, their faces wore identical expressions of barely
suppressed frustration with their young leader.  Ville smiled at them, showing
a little more fang than usual.  “I do wonder, though, if all the reports of
Shifter attacks on the outlying villages were thoroughly investigated?”

 Sigrid twined his fingers together and took a deep breath,
darting a glance at the Tweedles.  “I think we may be able to improve the
thoroughness of our investigations.  I believe these were fairly cursory, since
the circumstances were so typical of these types of attacks.”

Tweedle-dee finally spoke up.  “There are rumors that you
are sheltering a Shifter at the mansion.”

Everyone else in the room froze at his boldness.  Ville
rolled his shoulders and sat back in his seat, letting a little of his power
leak into the room.  “It is my privilege to invite whomever I wish into my
home.”  He stared at the man until he averted his round little eyes.

“Now, about the attacks,” he continued.  “I would like any
reports of Shifter attacks to be evaluated by a magic wielder.  I have reason
to believe that the scene of the recent attack in the village was altered by
magic.  The Shifter scent there was fabricated.”

Several people took notes as he explained the artificially
created scent, careful not to mention Wren and her role in the discovery.  No
one else asked questions about his guest, but the generals occasionally darted
glances at each other.  He would have to do something about the rumors soon.

He was reviewing Sigrid’s minutes of the meeting when an
intense feeling of fear and panic seized him.  The room seemed to grow distant
for a moment, and he struggled to mask his reaction as he desperately tried to
figure out where the emotions were coming from.  His heart hammered in his
chest, and he had trouble drawing breath.

The strategist leaned forward and hesitantly placed a hand
on Ville’s rigid arm.  “Sir, is there anything wrong?”

Ville very carefully let his breath out, and fought the
instinct that made him want to bare his teeth at the room.  “No,” he said,
composing his face into a soft smile.  “I think we’ve covered all the relevant
information.  Please let me know if there is any change.” 

He stood smoothly and left the room, the men’s eyes on
him.  Closing the door to the meeting room, he turned left and headed down the
hallway.  His chest ached, and he felt an intense surge of loneliness that he
knew wasn’t his own.  As he moved down the hallway and climbed the stairs, the
feeling grew stronger.  He followed the source of his panic to the little suite
adjoining his rooms. 

He pushed the door open and entered the room, filled with
heartache.  Wren was curled up in the middle of her bed, a pillow clutched to
her chest, shaking with silent sobs.  He crossed the room and sank down next to
her.  “Wren, sweetheart, what is it?”

He brushed the thick curtain of fiery red locks from her
heart-shaped face.  A single tear escaped from her tightly closed eyes and he
brushed it away with a thumb.  Her eyes fluttered open at his touch, and he
gazed down into the wide pools of golden brown, feeling utterly lost.

“My pack…” her husky voice was a whisper, and he heard an
echo of the panic he had felt.  He slipped his arms around her, lifting her
onto his lap and holding her tightly.  Her lithe body was rigid, and he stroked
her back willing her to relax.  It seemed to help, and she went pliant and soft
in his arms.

“What’s wrong with your pack?” 

She lifted her head, more in control.  He could feel the
pain in her lessening by the second.  “It’s the pack bond.  I…” her head
thumped against his shoulder.  “I’m sorry.  It just caught me unaware.”

He pulled back, forcing her to lift her head.  “I don’t
understand.”  He knew there was something powerful going on, but he could sense
her desire to appear strong, and that wall was already slipping into place. 
“Tell me.”

She stared up at him with those big doe eyes, a slight
frown marring her forehead.  “It’ll sound strange to you.  It’s just that…
well, wolves are pack animals.”

He impulsively leaned forward to kiss the line between her
eyes.  It smoothed out under his touch.  “And this causes you pain?”

She nodded.  “There’s this… this sort of connection
between pack mates.  Even though I wasn’t… close with my pack, the bond is
still there.  Severing that is kind of like a physical cut.”  She shrugged and
looked down.  “Usually it’s not so bad.  But sometimes when my defenses are
low, it creeps in.”

He felt like a fool for not noticing this sooner.  “It’s
worse when you’re sleeping.  That’s why you’ve looked so tired lately?”

She nodded, still not looking up.  “It’s better now.  It’s
always better… when you’re close.”  Her last words were barely a whisper.

He hugged her tightly.  “I’m sorry,” he said into her wonderful,
wild hair.  “I didn’t know.” 

Maybe the same bond that allowed him to feel her pain also
allowed her to feel his desire to shelter her.  He almost asked, but something
told him she hadn’t realized they were this deeply connected, and he was afraid
to bring attention to it, afraid she would be defensive- afraid she would run.

“I suppose this means I’ll have to keep you by my side all
the time.”  He fitted her closer to him more, enjoying the feel of her generous
bottom pressed against him.

She snorted in exasperation, but didn’t move away.  “This
is so wrong,” she said wryly. 

He pressed his hands along the smooth curve of her lower
back.  “According to whom?”

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against his
arm.  “Everyone.” 

His eyes were riveted to the small pulsing spot just
beneath the smooth, creamy skin of her throat.  Damn, he was suddenly very,
very thirsty.  

“Not everyone.”  He struggled to keep the lust out of his
voice.  It was wrong to pounce on her when she was feeling so vulnerable and
conflicted.  Wrong.  He reminded himself sternly.  She straightened and met
his eyes.  Her heartbeat sped up, ever so slightly, and her aura seemed to
chime against his.  “Ville…”

He sighed, resigned.  “I know.”  He reluctantly released
her and she slid from his lap. 

“How was the meeting?”  No trace of emotion lingered in
her voice. 

He lifted an eyebrow.  The woman was made of steel.  He
just couldn’t believe how unaffected she was, when their auras were all wrapped
around each other and all he could think about was pinning her the bed.

“The usual,” he said flatly.  “I’ve made some changes to
the way we’re approaching the war, and no one is pleased.”  He smiled grimly at
the thought of his generals.  “And we’ll have to do something about the rumors
soon.”

She nodded, not asking what the rumors were.  She had to
be painfully aware of her position.  He suddenly felt guilty for wanting her,
for putting her in this position in the first place. 

“What should we do?”  Her voice was carefully neutral.

He grinned up at her.  “Maybe we should tell them the
truth.”

She gave him a suspicious look.  “Which is what, exactly?”

He winked.  “That you’re all I can think about, day and
night.”

She shook her head, setting her gleaming hair swaying
around her neck.  “Can you be serious for five seconds?”  Her tone was
exasperated, but he could still feel her emotions, very faintly.  She was
scared.

“I am always serious,” he said, fighting the urge to show
her just how serious he was. 

I
fidgeted with the top of my dress, smoothing my hands down the long line of the
silk corset and plucking at the little puffs of lace that made up the cap
sleeves.  Ibbe and Ville had conspired behind my back, waiting until I’d
refused their invitation to the party on the premise of having nothing to wear
to present me with the pretty trap.