Obsessed (54 page)

Moving behind him, she continued kissing and loving him. When she trailed her fingers down the scar across his back, Renn said, “Are you healing that scar, too?”

“No.” She kissed his shoulder. “It is a part of you and I love you just the way you are.”

Tierra’s touch was so exquisite, every moment Renn was sure was his last. He had died and gone to the gods’ heaven to be loved by his woman.

She moved from behind him and said, “Lie back.” When he did, she straddled his waist and leaned forward so that her fiery tresses fell across his chest. They brushed across his skin like the finest of silk as her mouth found his nipple and she flicked her tongue across the tiny nub.

The ache increased in his already painfully hard cock and he gripped her shoulders with his hands. “Denai, you are torturing me.”

“No.” She laved his other nipple. “I am loving you.”

That magic tongue of hers worked its way down his taut abdomen to the waistband of his breeches. With deft fingers she untied them and then lightly stroked his cock as she pulled the breeches lower. He arched up, helping her ease them over his hips, and then she scooted down the bed ’til she had taken them all the way off.

“Perfect,” she murmured. She moved back up his long frame ’til she straddled his waist, his cock against her wet folds.

Tierra caught her breath as Renn rolled her onto her back in a quick movement. His weight felt solid between her thighs and in her arms, right where he belonged.

With a gentle hand he brushed hair from her face and smiled. “How could the gods have favored me with one such as you?”

She laughed. “As often as I ran away from you, and you consider yourself favored?”

He gave her a roguish grin. “The chase was half the fun.”

“Oh?” Tierra raised a brow. “But what will you do with me now that you’ve caught me?”

“Love you.” Renn reached down and placed the head of his erection at the entrance to her core. “Forever.”

With that he slid his cock into her channel and she gasped. How could such words of commitment bring her even more excitement than the teasing and games had?

His thrusts started out slow and easy, but became more and more powerful. Tierra met his every plunge, her heart and soul blending with his, her cries mingling with his groans ’til their passion exploded into fireworks of her scream and his shout.

“I love you, Renn,” Tierra murmured as he rolled to his side and brought her tight against his chest. “I will always love you.”

* * * * *

Tierra woke to the soft glow of sunshine on her eyelids and an urgent knock on the door. Still sleepy, she shook the fog from her mind. When she saw that the Renn’s place beside her was empty, she felt a momentary sense of loss that he was not there with her. She so enjoyed waking up with him at her side. And now that they were to be married, it was even more thrilling to know that she would wake with him every morning.

She could not help but smile. Renn would be her husband. And she would be his wife.

The knock sounded again, vanquishing the last of her morning stupor. She clutched the blanket tight to her chest and called out, “Come in.”

Liana and Ranelle both rushed into the room wearing expressions of mingled fury and concern.

“They left us,” Liana said, her sea green eyes wide with disbelief.

“What?” Tierra sat up in bed, still holding the blanket to her.

“Jalen, Aric, and Renn.” Ranelle fisted her hands. “They posted guards throughout the castle so that we cannot leave.”

Tierra gritted her teeth, anger rushing over her in a hot, furious wave. “They what?”

Liana’s hair swirled around her shoulders as she spoke. “They have gone to fight Zanden without us!”

“Those bastards.” Tierra climbed out of bed, dropping the blanket to reach for her discarded Elvin clothing. “Like hell they’re going to do this without us. Like hell.”

Blood thrummed through Renn’s veins as he rested his hand on his sword hilt and waited on the Mir Plains, just behind the front battle lines.

Gods, but their army was magnificent.

Line after line of Elvin warriors, Nordain fighters, Tanzanite hulks, Dwarven soldiers—on and on and on, across so many species.

Surely this would give the bastard Zanden a little pause.

Feymir shifted beneath Renn, almost prancing in his impatience. The war stallion snorted and tossed his head, obviously ready for the coming battle.

The darkness on the horizon bore down across the plain and straight toward the poised warriors.

Nordain cries echoed, along with Elvin chants, Dwarf shouts, and the eerie keening songs of Tanzinites.

Almost like laments, those songs. Sorrow that conflict had to come to violence.

Renn’s heart rate doubled.

The dark clouds—they were moving too fast.

Zanden’s followers were bearing down more swiftly than Renn or anyone else had expected. In just moments the Sorcerer’s vast army would be upon them.

As if in recognition of this danger, the entire battlefield fell silent. Only the intermittent snort of a horse or an occasional report cry from Nordain scouts could be heard.

That, and in the distance, the sound of marching feet. Many marching feet.

Several rows of Seraphine Elvin archers prepared to strike down as many of the Sorcerer’s front lines as they could when they were attacked. Many of Renn’s Seraphine brothers and sisters-at-arms calmly waited. Tirnac, Kerriel, and Chrys stood alongside Jalen’s sisters, the twins Damianne and Angelei.

Gods. Do not let me lose these people. My family.

Renn scowled into the oncoming cloud, battling a rage that might swallow whole all of Dair. Now that he had Tierra, a child on the way—family had a deeper meaning to him.

And this bastard, this foe who shared his very blood, meant to take it all from him.

“You will die,” Renn growled to himself, imagining Zanden’s death at his hands.

Renn glanced to his side.

The Devline Elves were primarily sword-fighters, the cold silver of their weapons glinting in the early morning light. Their dark features impassive, the Devline stood side by side behind the Seraphine archers.

Behind the Devline and to the right, stood masses of winged Tanzinites. The cave-dwelling, mostly albino race preferred the use of long, thin scythes in battle. Their wicked blades would be even more of an asset for these creatures who could fly.

To the left of the Tanzinites, the fierce Dwarves crouched like countless blue skinned, blue-eyed statues. When unable to use their bare hands to snap an enemy’s neck, the Dwarves relied on jagged-bladed daggers to disembowel.

Even though he would choose to be in the middle of the melee immediately, Aric remained behind the armies like a true King should. Renn had no doubt at first opportunity his brother would thrust himself into the thick of battle. Aric’s mount was a fierce war stallion, but Baethel, the King’s steed that had been slain in recent events, would be sorely missed in this fight.

The Nordain remained behind the other races as half were on horseback, and the other half on foot—prepared to shift into nordai form for the air battle soon to come. All of Phoenicia’s warriors were present, save for those left behind to protect the castle—the fiercest of which had been instructed to guard Tierra, Ranelle and Liana and to keep them from leaving.

For a moment Renn allowed himself to think of Tierra. The honeysuckle scent of her skin, the smells of their mingled sex. How beautiful she had looked sleeping in his arms, and how difficult it had been to leave her this morn. He knew she and her halias would be angry at being left behind, but Renn, Aric, and Jalen refused to risk their women’s lives.

At the memory of Tierra’s declaration of love, Renn’s heart soared like a nordai in flight. At the end of this battle, she would become his wife, and months from now, she would give birth to their babe.

Renn gripped his sword hilt and gritted his teeth as his attention riveted on the horizon. He could now make out the cold faces of the front line of Zanden’s army.

Unholy shrieks filled the air, and the stench of evil and death filled Renn’s senses.

It was time.

* * * * *

Tierra’s temper had still not cooled by the time the women gathered in Liana and Aric’s massive chambers, prepared to flee the castle. The heart-sisters had dressed in their Elvin tunics, breeches, and boots, and Ranelle and Tierra had each fashioned their hair into a single braid to keep it out of their way. Liana’s moonlit tresses were a part of her senses and even a weapon, so she simply allowed them to flow around her.

Ranelle cocked her head, listening with her keen Nordain hearing. She tensed. “We have little time. The battle has already begun.”

Tierra clenched her teeth. “Liana. Do you see anything?”

Closing her eyes, Liana took a deep breath, and Tierra knew the seer was reaching out with her senses. “Zanden waits while his army battles ours…he wishes to slay as many of our peoples as possible before he comes for us…he intends to take no prisoners but the three of us.”

“Does he know where we are?” Tierra asked.

A pause and then Liana shook her head, her tresses sliding over her shoulders with the movement. “Not yet.” She opened her eyes and added, “As long as we keep rein on our thoughts then he shall not be able to find us ’til we reach him.”

“If he does not have the hrichn,” Ranelle said. “It is a metal orb that aids him in his visions and makes his seer’s sight much more powerful.”

“Now we just need to get out of here without being seen.” Liana tapped one booted foot on the throw rug. “Obviously the men do not realize how powerful we have become.”

“Arrogant bastards,” Tierra muttered. “We could easily incapacitate our guards, but then that would keep them from being of aid if they were needed to protect the women and children remaining in the castle.”

Liana nodded. “Even if you put a temporary spellbinding on them, they would follow, again leaving the castle with fewer guards.”

“The best solution is to steal away somehow,” Ranelle agreed.

The women quickly formulated a plan and set it into motion. Liana went to the chamber’s large window and used her senses to determine the number of Nordain guards. When they were ready, Ranelle used her enhanced powers to project her own image in the castle gardens, drawing the guards’ attention.

Tierra quickly fastened three spellbindings to the bedposts and the women eased out the window.

“It is a very long way down,” Liana muttered as she started down the rope.

Ranelle’s voice was tight. “Focus on your grip.”

Tierra let the binding slide through her hands and knees as she let herself down. “Allow yourself to slide—this rope will not burn your hands.”

Their Elvin tunics shifted into a cold gray color, allowing them to blend with the castle’s stone wall.

When they finally reached the bottom, Tierra retrieved her spellbindings and they crouched behind a row of bushes for a moment, waiting to make sure all was clear.

They would have to hurry. They had precious little time, if their plan were to succeed.

* * * * *

Swords clashed and cries of war rang across the battlefield.

Renn’s pulse pounded against his temples. Blood and gore covered his hands, his arms. He roared as he sliced the head from another one of Zanden’s minions.

Deeper, yet deeper into the fray, he pressed Feymir. One creature after another he dispatched, his rage rising with every being he slayed. Yet there seemed to be no end to the Sorcerer’s army—a horrid mix of human and all other races.

The stench of blood and death hung heavy upon the air. Around Feymir’s hooves, bodies littered the battlefield…Tanzinites, Dwarves, Nordain, Seraphine and Devline Elves…near immortal in lifespan, but not immune to killing blows.

With the fury of a thousand men, Renn shoved his sword through the heart of another enemy, and at the same moment slit the throat of the man who attempted to attack him from behind. Renn had trained for battle since he was a fledgling, his keen warrior senses honed to a fine point.

He never lost.

He would not lose this battle.

To his left, Aric bellowed with every enemy he took down with his sword and dagger, the blood-red stone of L’tiercel glittering with every thrust.

On the far side of Aric, Jalen alternated between using his sword to slay attackers, to the calm efficiency he used with his bow, swiftly downing one enemy after another.

From overhead came shrieks of Nordain fighters in their raven form as they battled their traitorous brothers and sisters.

Irani thundered horrid bellows and bore down on fierce winged Tanzinites.

Renn felt a surge of satisfaction as the pale warriors wielded their scythes with unerring precision.

Yet, they were not invincible either. Many of their number had already fallen.

And yet more of Zanden’s troops came. And yet more.

Through the haze of battle Renn caught glimpses of men and women he counted among his friends and family of the heart, and prayed to the gods for their safety. Prayed to the gods they would defeat this vast evil. Yet as the battle drew on, it seemed his prayers had been ignored.

Zanden’s minions closed in around him, around Aric, even as they sliced and killed any who came near.

They had minutes left, perhaps seconds, before they were overwhelmed.

Tierra!
Renn slammed his sword hilt into an onrushing fighter.
Tierra. Tierra!

The name, the thought of her, gave him strength. And yet how could he hold back fifty enemies at once?

Aric cried out and disappeared from view, yanked from his horse. The valiant steed rose and pawed the enemy, defending his master.

Renn shouted in horror.

“Aric!” He yanked Feymir sideways, trying to reach his brother. “Hold. I am coming!”

Sharp cries rang out in the distance and Renn’s attention turned to the sky for but a moment.

What appeared to be a white cloud approached them at maddening speed from the northeast.

Renn’s sharp Nordain eyes recognized hundreds of white ravens.