Prince of Desire (11 page)

She blinked, and Lucian and the creature attacked. Lucian's arm moved with lightning speed as he kept the beast's claws away. She had seen Lucian fight once before, but in the light of day, she saw just how excellent a warrior he was as he battled a beast made of magic.

Yet, powerful warrior or not, the monster was wearing him down. Isabelle could tell Lucian's movements slowed where the Tnarg's increased. By the resignation on Lucian's face, he knew it was simply a matter of time.

“Nay,” Isabelle whispered. She could not lose Lucian after just finding him.

She rose and started down the pass. Her feet slipped on the ice and snow, and she began to fall. She kept her eyes on Lucian as she slid the rest of the way, ignoring the cuts and scrapes on her legs.

“Lucian,” she said through her tears as she saw him crumble to the ground under the onslaught of the Tnarg's assault. She climbed to her feet, her only thought to save her mate, the man that she loved.

“Get away from him!” she cried as she raced toward the Tnarg.

The Tnarg didn't pay her any mind as it went in for the kill. Isabelle dove at the creature and buried the dagger in its arm.
 
It screamed and threw her off as it clawed at the dagger. Isabelle's stomach fell to her feet as the Tnarg turned to her and hissed, its massive teeth bared.
 

And just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

Isabelle said a quick prayer of thanks, her heart thumbing with sickening dread in her chest. Tears gathered in her eyes at the terror she had just witnessed.

“Isabelle.”

Her eyes shifted to find Lucian crawling toward her.
 

She cried freely now as she rose up on her knees and embraced him. “I thought I had lost you.”

“You were supposed to leave,” he said, his breath still coming in huge gulps.

She leaned back to look into his eyes. “I couldn't. I knew you’d need me.”

He smiled then and wiped her damp hair from her face. “I did need you.”

They rose to their feet, and Isabelle took inventory of him. Fortunately, he had only flesh wounds and nothing that couldn't wait to be tended to once they reached Drahcir.

“I'm fine,” he said as he stilled her arms. “Are you hurt?”

She started to shake her head then felt her legs begin to sting. “Nothing that cannot wait until we reach the gates.”

“Then let's go home,” Lucian said.

Isabelle was more than ready now.
 

* * * *

Lucian looked over at Isabelle and smiled as they entered the tall gilded gates of Drahcir. He never tired of looking at the city, and he could only imagine what it was like seeing it for the first time. He wanted to nudge his horse faster but held back so Isabelle could take it all in.

“You said it was beautiful, but I didn't expect this,” Isabelle said as she looked around in awe.

“It’s more beautiful than words. Just like you.”

She turned her midnight blue eyes on him and smiled. “You do know how to charm.”

“If you follow this road it will lead to the castle,” he said and pointed to his home high atop the mountain.
 
He took in a deep breath and looked at the cottages and structures that lined the steep slope to the castle.
 
He’d taken his home for granted while he’d been there, but never again would he make that mistake.

The quaint, elegant splendor could be seen from the road to the flowers artfully planted everywhere to the precision of their symbol carved, etched, stitched, and branded on clothes, homes, weapons, saddles, and anything else they could find.
 
Time held the kingdom in a bubble that stopped the wars and men’s greed from touching them.
 
He hated the curse, hated the pressure put on them to keep the kingdom alive, but after seeing what was outside the gates, he was almost glad it had happened.

“The knotwork is everywhere,” Isabelle said, her voice low, holding a note of awe.

“It was given to us by the Fae.
 
It’s part of us, part of Drahcir.
 
You’ll find it carved in all the wood, sewn into the clothes, and etched into stone.”

“A part of it is even on us,” she said and cut her eyes to him.

Lucian’s arm warmed as he thought of his mark and the matching one on Isabelle’s arm.
 
“Aye.
 
If you let it, it’ll become a part of you.”

“I’d like nothing better.”
 
Isabelle drank in the allure and beauty of the city.
 
“I wasn’t prepared for the exquisite, quiet beauty of it all.”

He chuckled and took her hand to kiss the back of it as their horses continued slowly down the street.
 
The inhabitants began to file out of their homes and businesses in droves.
 
They lined the street, waving and clapping, smiles of joy of on their faces.

Isabelle bit her lip, suddenly all too aware of her shabby, older clothes that were nothing like the simple, clean styles she now saw.
 
Unlike her gown with open sides and train, the women wore gowns of solid colors with long flared sleeves and a deep border on the bottom of their skirts.
 
She found it lovely and enchanting, so much so that she couldn't wait to get out of her soiled, stained gown and into one like theirs.

The men's clothing was just as simple and out of date as the women's. Instead of the coif, they went bareheaded. Instead of the overcoat, gauntlets, painted leather boots, and hose, they wore long tunics, trews, and tall leather boots, just as Lucian did.
 

It was as if Isabelle had stepped into another realm.

Her gaze moved from the people to the structures. She recognized a blacksmith’s shop, a baker, and even a tailor’s shop. Everything was clean and beautiful. That's when she noticed how warm she had become.

“Something wrong?” Lucian asked, a twinkle in his eyes as he waved at the people.

“I’m warm.”

He smiled and reached over to help her remove the thick woolen cloak. “Though we were cursed, the city has also been blessed. Nothing could live in these mountains as cold as it is. The Fae bespelled the city to keep it warm.”

“Amazing,” Isabelle whispered. “So you were cursed and blessed by the Fae.
 
Anything else you didn't tell me?”

His hearty laugh brought a smile to her lips. “There are some things that are better left experienced rather than being told.”

“I've got more surprises?”

“Here's another one,” he said as he stopped in front of a massive water fountain.

She could only gawk at the sheer size of the fountain and the sparkling stone it was constructed of.
 
Isabelle eagerly went into Lucian’s waiting arms as she slid off the mare.
 
She was drawn to the fountain, unable to stay away.
 
She ran her hand over the amazing blue rocks that formed the structure of the fountain.

“They’re smooth. And I see no cracks where the stones meet up,” she said and raised her gaze to Lucian.

“Another gift from the Fae.”

Isabelle turned back to the fountain and dipped her hand into the clear, cool water and brought it to her mouth. It tasted as fresh and enchanting as the city. It wasn't until she took Lucian's outstretched hand and turned to her mare that she got an up-close view of the castle.

The structure was as similar as it was different from the castles in Scotland. The round turrets, battlements, and soaring towers mimicked the castles she knew, but the stone it was constructed of was similar to that of the fountain and shown brilliantly in the sun. There was no drawbridge, and the many stairs leading up the castle was something she had never seen before. Her gaze caught the numerous balconies overlooking the city from various chambers, and she found herself eager to investigate each room.

“Want to take a closer look?” Lucian asked in her ear.

She couldn't turn back now if she tried. She was bonded with Lucian, with Drahcir, and with its people.
 
Isabelle threaded her hand with her mate’s.
 
“Aye.
 
Show me all of it.”
 

* * * *

People began to follow them to the castle. The road was long and winding as it rose to the highest peak. Lucian waved and talked to the people as they passed, but he couldn't introduce Isabelle. Not before his parents met her.
 
It was tradition.

Yet, everyone knew he’d brought home his princess.

By the time they reached the top, Isabelle was breathless, her smile bright.
 
Lucian should have put her on Elad and rode them to the castle, but he wanted her to remember her first trip up always.

“I’m in awe of everything.”

“You’re no’ tired?”

“I’m exhausted, but I’m too overwhelmed to notice it yet.”

Lucian laughed and smoothed back tendrils of her hair that had come loose in the rough winds of the mountains. “You'll get used to it all soon enough.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped out of his arms to smooth her skirts. Over her head, Lucian spotted his parents as they emerged from the castle.
 
His chest swelled as he smiled at them.
 
He couldn’t wait to talk to both of them.
 
There was so much he had to tell them.

In the years of his absence, his father had aged greatly. Where once his beard had been as black as the night, it was littered with gray. And his mother hadn't fared much better. Her flawless face now had lines of worry around her mouth and eyes. As soon as they spotted him, his mother began to cry and his father slowly walked to him. Lucian met his father halfway and embraced the man he had always looked up to.

“I’m so glad you’ve returned, son,” his father said as he stepped back and gave him a once over.

Lucian’s throat closed with emotion when he saw the joy and pride in his father’s eyes.
 
He smiled and moved to embrace his mother who hung back. Words weren't spoken. His mother couldn't stop crying, and his own emotion nearly choked him as he held her trembling body. Finally, Lucian moved to the side and motioned for Isabelle to come forward.

For the first time since his arrival, his mother ceased her tears and his father turned his dark eyes to Isabelle.

“Mother. Father. I’d like to introduce you to Isabelle. My mate.”

“Saints be praised,” his father shouted and pulled her into his arms for a fierce hug before his mother pulled her away for a hug of her own.

Lucian sat back and watched his parents fuss over Isabelle, welcoming her into the family. They shared a smile, he and Isabelle, as the people of Drahcir began to cheer loudly.

“The wedding will be three days hence,” his mother said as she began to walk toward the castle doors, her arm firmly locked around Isabelle.

Lucian turned to his father. “Where are Elric, Sorin, and Keiran? I expected them to greet us.”

His father lowered his eyes. “You're the first to return, son.”

Lucian was so stunned, he could only stare at his father. He had thought to be the last, not the first. No wonder his parents had aged so greatly in his absence.
 
He needed to soothe their fears the only way he knew how.
 
“They’ll return, Father. I know it.
 
You know it.”

His father nodded. “Enough talk of that. Let us celebrate your return.”

“Wait,” Lucian said as he watched his mother and Isabelle disappear into the castle. “There's something you need to know. We were attacked.”

“What?” his father exclaimed.

Lucian sighed. “It was a Tnarg, Father. It was after Isabelle.”

“Ye saints,” Urises said. “Are you sure? None have been encountered in....”

“Generations,” Lucian supplied. “And I'm quite sure. The books that foretell our history have several depictions of the Tnargs. I used to have nightmares about the beasts. It disappeared as suddenly as it appeared after Isabelle sunk a blade into it.”

“Isabelle?” the king repeated, his eyebrows raised high in his forehead.

Lucian nodded.
 
“The beast nearly had me.
 
She saved me.”

“A fine woman you’ve found as your mate, Lucian.
 
I’m happy for you.”
 
Urises ran a hand down his face. “Doona tell your mother of the attack. She's worried enough as it is.”

“I hadna planned on it, and I’ll make sure Isabelle doesna either.”

“Was it difficult for Isabelle to leave her family?”

Lucian already missed her, even though she was only in the castle.
 
He’d gotten used to her being by his side.
 
“Nay.
 
They were all dead.
 
It was close though, Father.
 
I wasna sure I could convince her.”

“None of that matters now.
 
You’re here, Isabelle is with you, and the people rejoice.
 
Listen to their shouts of happiness, son,” he said and looked out over the people waving and cheering still.