All the King's Men (7 page)

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.