Prince of Fire (6 page)

Joryn didn't pretend that he wasn't admiring her when she stood. Might as well not pretend, since all he wore was his enchanted bracelet, and his reaction to her state of undress was evident. Her eyes were drawn down his body, and the only reaction was a slight lift of her eyebrows ... and a tightening of small nipples.

"The Queen used both hands to push her tangled hair away from her face. She did not try to hide her nakedness. The animal was a part of her, as it was of him, and she did not possess the reserve that so many ordinary women had been cursed with. She allowed him to look upon her, and as he watched, her cuts and bruises began to heal, slowly but surely.

She asked, her voice even, "Are you going to kill me now?"

"No."

She didn't seem surprised. Did she ever? "That's quite an interesting gift you possess." She licked her lips, and if he hadn't already been hard, that would've done it. "Fire."

She didn't know everything, and he wasn't about to tell her. He might question whether or not she was evil, he might dream about her—he might even want her body beneath and around his. But that didn't mean he was foolish enough to trust her.

His prisoner had moved closer to the bars than was safe, considering her abilities and his exposed state. If Queen Keelia—ruler of the Anwyn and gifted seer— killed him, she'd never get out of her prison. She was smart enough to know that. Still, he took a step away from the bars.

Joryn's eyes were drawn down the Queen's fine body, which he admired openly until he came to a small mole positioned against fair skin just beneath her navel and slightly to the left. In his dream, she'd had just such a mole. He knew because he'd kissed that mark on an otherwise flawless body and she'd laughed. He remembered the laugh, the taste of her skin, the quiver of her flesh, as if it were all real.

He reached for the bracelet which was supposed to protect his mind from hers. Obviously the Greuidmodier's protective magic was flawed. The Queen couldn't read his mind, but apparently she could reach into his dreams.

And she was trying to seduce him into releasing her.

3

It was all too evident to Keelia that summer was approaching. There wasn't much of a breeze in her prison cave, though on occasion she caught a whiff of fresh air. She missed her cool baths, her fans, and the welcomed brush of fresh night air against her flesh.

The cell was slightly more tolerable when she was unclothed. Since she wasn't shy about her body, she began to pass the days in that state. Her captor seemed alternately amused and annoyed, but she did not care.

When her army found her, she would insist that they take her to the nearest body of water before returning to The City. She did not wish her subjects to see her in such a sad condition, sweating and overheated and flushed. For a while she had wondered if her kidnapper had killed those who were searching for her, with his remarkable gift for fire, but a few moments of quiet meditation had ended that worry. Her array, her devoted guard, were alive and well, hut they were far away from this prison. She'd tried to reach out to them, as she had her mother, but as she had no mental connection with the soldiers, she was quite sure nothing had happened. She didn't see anything of her own future with certainty, but she did have hope that her guard would find her. Eventually. In a place like this one, hope was necessary.

Joryn appeared with her meal for the day, slipping it quickly through the portal made for that purpose. There was no more fresh fruit, apparently. The bread would be hard, and the meat was dried and tough. Even though she was hungry, Keelia did not rush to collect her meal. From her position on the stone floor, which was harder but also cooler than the cot, she rose up slightly.

She did not want to suffer this physical attraction to the man who had kidnapped her, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own where Joryn was concerned. She clenched in deep places which were normally dormant, and her nipples hardened. It was the dreams, she kne^v. Her body had the mistaken notion that this Caradon captor was already her lover, and it wanted more. It wanted touch. Intimate, hot touch.

All her life, she had dismissed the prophesy which said the Red Queen would take a Caradon lover and thereby bring peace to her people. The Anwyn had been at peace for many, many years. The Caradon were nothing more than nuisances. Why would such an extreme sacrifice be called for to end what was no more than an annoyance?

But now there was a new evil rising, and there was evidence of that evil everywhere. Her psychic abilities had been dampened; the Caradon monstrosities attacked even their own; her vivid visions of violence among the humans in the land below were all too real. Still, how could lying with a Caradon bring peace? How could making this man her lover stop an evil that seemed to her to be unstoppable?

There was only one logical explanation.

Joryn studied her without attempting to hide his appreciation. Arms crossed over a finely muscled chest, feet firmly planted, hair loose and thick. And clean. Keelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You have been in the water."

"Yes. It is a warm day, Your Most Royal Splendor."

He had latched on to her insistence that he address her as her station required, and on occasion had quite a lot of fun with it. Not when he was at his angriest, but when he only wanted to annoy her. She did not wish to argue with him, not now. She was tempted to order him to take her to the same water he had enjoyed... but in the past, issuing orders to her kidnapper had accomplished nothing. Perhaps she should try asking instead. In her sweetest and most demure voice, she began, "I don't suppose I could convince you to take me ..."

He began to shake his head long before she could finish her question.

Keelia sat up slowly, and still she didn't move toward her food. Hiding her frustration at his refusal, she tried again. "I have a proposition for you."

"I'm sure you do," Joryn answered, a touch of humor in his voice. He gripped one bar of her cell with one large hand. A very nicely shaped hand, she could not help but notice. "I know what you've been doing, so..."

Keelia blinked a couple of times. "I haven't been doing anything. In fact, I believe 1 have been an ideal prisoner for the past few days."

"Do you think I don't realize that you've invaded my dreams?" her captor asked. "Do you think I don't realize that you're trying to seduce me in a way that only a powerful witch could?"

Keelia swallowed hard. He'd been having dreams about her? Dreams like hers? It wasn't possible that her mate was a Caradon. It was unheard of. And still, the dreams were a part of the connection, a part of the realization of one's mate's identity. "I have done no such thing," she said calmly. "I receive information psychically, but I do not influence the minds of others." Unless she had been able to reach her mother ... "I don't affect their dreams and thoughts. It would be terribly rude. Communication is possible, in rare and special circumstances, but if you believe I'm capable of... of mind control, you're mistaken. Perhaps you have experienced perfectly ordinary dreams and you're confused."

"They're not ordinary, I assure you." His eyes drifted down. "That mole on your belly. I saw it in my dream before I saw it on you. Besides, the dreams are very ... real."

"Yes, they are," Keelia sighed.

"So, that is your proposition, I suppose? Come on in, Joryn, and I'll show you the pleasures you have dreamt of." There was more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice, and perhaps a little pain. "Come into my prison cell, Joryn, and make me scream your name. Come to me, Joryn, and in the name of pleasure let's forget that we are enemies."

Keelia rose to her feet, moving slowly. "Actually, I was going to say something entirely different. Release me, Joryn. There is evil coming to these Mountains of the Norm, and I believe Anwyn and Caradon are destined to fight it together."

* * * * *

"Ridiculous." Joryn responded as he shook off the Queen's proposition. "Do you think I'm a fool who will believe anything that comes out of a beautiful woman's mourn?"

Keelia tilted her head to one side. Silken red hair drifted over pale, perfect, bare skin. Yes, this was definitely seduction of the most blatant sort. "You think I'm beautiful?"

He threw his hands up in frustration. "Yes, but that has nothing to do with the fact that you're the enemy. Anwyn and Caradon will never work together. There will
never
be peace between your people and mine."

"Do you know of the ancient Anwyn prophesy of the Red Queen?" she asked, and amazingly, her face flushed as if she were embarrassed. Naked, passionate in his dreams, and now embarrassed about some old portent.

"No. I am not familiar with Anwyn lore."

Keelia took a step toward the bars, and Joryn moved quickly back. Innocent as she looked at the moment, he could not forget that her soft, delicate hands could become deadly weapons in the blink of an eye.

"It is said that the Red Queen will bring peace to the Anwyn people by taking a Caradon into her bed, by taking a Caradon lover."

"Nice try, Your Naked Magnificence. So, we fuck, and suddenly all is well with the world?"

She did not even blink hard at his response. "Perhaps you should call me Keelia."

He enjoyed mocking her station; it helped him to maintain a necessary distance between them. And still... "Fine, Keelia. Are you telling me that sex will save the world? Not just sex, but you and me—"

She interrupted before he could get more graphic. "I think the prophesy is unclear, as prophesies often are. They are often delivered as riddles, and then they are told and retold until the original meaning is twisted, or perhaps even lost entirely. I believe that Anwyn and Caradon must join together. Sex is simply a metaphor for the union of two very different species, and that union is meant to come in my time. It's the only possible explanation, I see that now. The evil which has transformed some of your people into monsters is spreading not only here on the mountain, but in the lands below. Humans, like my cousin Ariana, are fighting that evil as we waste time here in this prison you constructed because you do not yet understand what's happening. Our determination to defeat that evil must be more devout than our hatred of one another."