Obsessed (35 page)

Faster than an urli butterfly could change from white to red, Ranelle’s fear turned to fury.

Fury that Zanden had killed her mother and father.

Fury that he had taken her from her family.

Fury that he had held threat over hers and her heart-sisters’ entire lives.

And fury that even now, Jalen might lose his life if Zanden kept her from returning to her love and aiding him in his battle against the qinok.

Let me go! she
screamed at him in her mind, unleashing all of the anger, all of the pain from her very lifeforce. She pushed it through her being and straight to the Sorcerer.

Shock changed his angered expression to momentary confusion, and he lost his hold on her.

Sparkles glittered in the air as she shifted back to her human form, landing mere feet from him.

His face flushed, turning almost purple in his rage.

Even as he recovered and began to reach for her, Ranelle summoned her magic—magic enhanced by the countless hours of training with Jalen in Astral. Magic amplified by her anger for her losses, and her fear of losing any more loved ones.

Holding her hand to her chest, palm facing Zanden, she shoved her hand toward him. The Sorcerer flew back, his face twisted in surprise as he landed in the brush.

At the same moment, Ranelle transformed back into a nordai and shot toward the tree above to hide amongst the pine needles. But only for a moment, only ’til she was ready to take the next step.

“You have no idea what this is going to cost you,” the Sorcerer said as he stood, and she saw that he favored one leg—a recent wound. Ranelle’s senses told her at once that her heart-sister, Liana, had been responsible. Liana had recently fought Zanden. But had she won? Or was Liana now a prisoner in the Sorcerer’s fortress?

The thoughts flashed through Ranelle’s mind, even as he raised his hands to her hiding place, and as she put her plan into motion.

She thrust herself into the air and shifted back to her human form at the same time she projected her own image. As she landed, she and four copies of herself surrounded the Sorcerer.

“You did inherit Mother’s powers.” Slowly Zanden lowered his hands and turned in a circle, studying each likeness of Ranelle, an amused look upon his face. “I had hoped as much.”

The concentration it took to maintain the images made her head spin, and she had to struggle to keep them strong and clear. To not be distracted by the flapping of many wings that told her that her Nordain kinsmen had arrived. As they landed, her senses were acutely aware of them as they shifted into their male and female human forms. Each bore a dagger and surrounded Ranelle, her images, and Zanden.

“I remember everything.” Ranelle projected her voice, each image speaking and her voice reverberating through the forest. “You murdered our mother and father.”

“I should have been King.” Zanden cocked his head his eyes shifting from one image of her to another and ignoring the Nordain surrounding them. She knew the Sorcerer was waiting for her strength to fail. Waiting for her to reveal which likeness of herself was the real one. “But they chose to give the throne to Aric,” he continued. “They deserved death.”

“My sword shall dice your treacherous heart and feed it to you while you still live,” boomed a powerful voice. From the midst of the Nordain came an imposing warrior, and Ranelle’s concentration almost failed her.

The scarred man she had seen in her dreams. The one who had been with Tierra.

“Renn,” Zanden murmured. “Mother’s other favorite.”

My brother?
The shock caused her images to flicker, but the Sorcerer’s eyes were focused on the Nordain warrior.

“All along it was you, our brother, yet we never realized the extent of your treachery.” Renn raised his sword, his icy silver eyes glittering in the waning light. He clenched his jaw and his features hardened. The scar across his rugged face whitening as the fury in his expression increased beyond measure. “From your very own lips the truth is revealed—you murdered our parents and kidnapped our fair sister.”

Instead of responding, Zanden flung out his hands. His powerful magic wrapped around Ranelle’s body, shattering her concentration. The images failed and vanished, and Ranelle flew through the air and landed at the Sorcerer’s feet.

Before she could move, he placed his heavy boot on her head, its weight pressing into her skull and forcing her head into the pine needles. She had to escape him. Had to get to Jalen!

Nordain warriors pressed closer, but stopped when Zanden said, “I can crush her skull with my boot or my magic, it matters not. Retreat or she dies.”

* * * * *

Blood seeped through the krstn despite its magical properties, and the wound throbbed with poison from the qinok’s claw. Jalen’s flesh was weakening, but he would not stop ’til his heartmate was safe.

As he drew near the end of the moors, almost to the D’euan Forest, Jalen sensed the incredible danger that Ranelle was in—and the Sorcerer’s presence.

With renewed energy and determination, Jalen forced himself forward, slipping silently from the moors into the life-giving land of his home. Even as he passed into his home, the gifts of the goddess filled his lifeforce, giving him needed strength.

Before his eyes could see them, Jalen’s senses informed him he had reached the small clearing where his heartmate was, along with many Nordain and the Sorcerer. Jalen slowed, keeping himself hidden as he nocked an arrow to his bow in a fluid movement.

When he saw Ranelle’s head pinned beneath Zanden’s boot, rage filled Jalen. Fury unlike anything he had experienced in his long life. In a swift movement, he trained the arrow on the Sorcerer’s heart, and released it.

Ranelle sensed Jalen as soon as he arrived, her heart and soul filling with both love and fear for him.

Zanden’s attention snapped toward Jalen as the arrow sailed toward him. Although she could not see him from her position on the ground, she sensed the Sorcerer deflecting the arrow with his magic.

His attention was now focused on Jalen. Taking advantage of Zanden’s distraction, Ranelle fisted one hand. With all her strength she brought it up and slammed it onto the Sorcerer’s wounded thigh. To the very location Liana had wounded him in another battle.

Zanden stumbled back, shrieking in apparent rage and pain, as his boot slipped from her head. Ranelle rolled away from the Sorcerer and scrambled to her feet in time to see one of Jalen’s arrows stray to the left, missing Zanden’s hate-filled heart, instead lodging in the bastard’s bicep.

The Sorcerer wrenched the arrow from his arm. “I will have you,” he shouted with one last look of rage at Ranelle. And then, like a bit of smoke on a strong wind, he vanished.

Ranelle did not waste time wondering where Zanden had gone to. She only knew that she had to be in Jalen’s arms now. Ignoring the Nordain still surrounding her, Ranelle ran toward Jalen as he stumbled from the cover of trees.

“Jalen!” Relief at seeing him changed into terror when she realized he was injured, and he slid to the ground. Her very being screamed as she dropped beside him and cradled his head in her lap. “Help him. Please!”

“Brother,” Renn said as he knelt beside Jalen. “What ails you?”

Ranelle’s gaze cut to the scarred man who tenderly began removing the blood-soaked krstn from Jalen’s thigh.

“Qinok.” Jalen’s voice sounded harsh, as though he could barely breathe.

“Damnation.” Renn ripped his own tunic off, revealing his massive chest, then wrapped the garment around Jalen’s thigh. “Nothing will truly stem the flow of blood, save Yanea’s magic.”

“Aye.” As soon as the word passed through Jalen’s lips, his eyes closed and his body went slack.

“Oh, my gods.” Ranelle pressed her lips to Jalen’s forehead and then turned her tear-filled gaze to Renn. “Will he die?”

“Not as long as I have breath to carry him,” Renn growled. As though Jalen weighed naught more than a babe, Renn raised and flung Jalen over his shoulder, and began to run.

From the moment they had arrived in Seraphine, Ranelle refused to leave Jalen’s side and threatened to use her magic on anyone who tried to take her from her heartmate. The Elves only smiled, as though amused at her words, but let her be.

“Of course,” Queen Yanea had said when Ranelle asked if he would recover. “He is Elvin, and he is my son.”

No one had yet asked why Ranelle insisted on being at Jalen’s side, or questioned her right to be, even though she wasn’t Elvin. And although she had seen them glance at her enrli, none had remarked upon it.

The following day, the day after the battle against Zanden, Renn sat with Ranelle at Jalen’s bedside. Ranelle was clothed in a sheer robe, foregoing Elvin tradition to remain nude within the kingdom. Renn had a short kilt wrapped around his trim waist, knowing that Ranelle felt uncomfortable being around her brother when he was naked.

When told of Jalen’s joining with Ranelle, Renn had shaken his dark head and muttered, “Sotted fools.” But Ranelle knew Renn was secretly pleased. Pleased that his younger sister was now wedded to his brother-at-arms.

Jalen’s color had improved, no longer as pale as it had been after the Battle at the Moors. His expression seemed relaxed, and Ranelle sensed his growing strength. Hopefully he would wake soon and she could once again hear his deep voice and feel his gentle touch upon her skin.

Seraphine was a beautiful place, each room a part of the forest, blending and mixing with nature. In Jalen’s bedchamber, wildflowers in hues of blue, purple and white were laced into the walls and ceilings that were fashioned of woven vines and trees. Golden orbs hovered above, similar to the ball of light Jalen had used in the cave. The soft light bathed the room, casting a glittering hue across the furnishings that appeared to be designed from living wood. Ranelle had learned the Elves used magic to create the furniture, and would never harm any living gift of the goddess.

To Ranelle’s surprise, her brother had become her staunchest supporter and friend within the confines of the Elvin kingdom. They had spent time re-discovering one another in the hours spent at Jalen’s bedside, and Renn had shared with her much of what she had missed in the years she had been gone from Phoenicia.

Only yesterday, as Jalen and Ranelle had been crossing the moors, Liana had married Aric, Ranelle’s oldest brother. Her heart-sister was now Queen of Phoenicia and Renn and Ranelle’s sister-in-law. And Liana was pregnant—with twins!

Renn and the other warriors had been called from the ceremonial feasting by Ranelle’s Nordain cry for help. If it had not been Aric’s wedding night, he, too, would have come to Ranelle’s aid. But Renn had demanded that Aric stay with his bride, that the other warriors would aid the Nordain in distress. They hadn’t known it was Ranelle ’til they arrived.

She also learned that Renn had promised his brother that he would find Tierra and return her safely to Phoenicia. Ranelle considered telling Renn of her visions, but decided to keep them to herself. Now that she knew who the scarred man was, and had time to consider her visions, she knew he would never harm Tierra—and if anything, Renn would need to beware of the mischievous and headstrong redhead.

Since the moment they arrived in Seraphine, Renn had been fiercely protective over Ranelle. He even went so far as to warn her not to eat or drink anything that he had not sampled first.

“The Elves are a devious folke.” Renn’s gaze cut to Damianne as the tall, sensuous, and naked Elvin woman entered the room. “None are to be trusted.”

“You have us confused with the Faeries.” Damianne’s enrli at her forehead and mound glittered amethyst as she knelt between Renn’s thighs and rubbed his cock through his kilt. “Come,” she murmured, loud enough for Ranelle to hear. “What you need is a good fuck.”

“Leave, wench,” he growled, his muscles flexing—but lust filled his silver eyes.

Damianne ignored him, pushing his kilt to his waist and sliding her lips and long fingers down Renn’s cock.

Renn roared. He wrapped his hands around Damianne’s slender waist and pulled her away from him. In the next moment he threw the laughing Elvin woman over his shoulder and strode from the room.

With a grin, Ranelle shook her head and turned to look at Jalen, her love. Her husband.

Her very core ached for his touch. She needed to be near him. To feel his muscular body pressed against hers. To hear his deep and vibrant voice.

She stood, letting the silken robe slide from her shoulders, onto the carpet of moss at her feet. The moss felt like velvet beneath her bare soles, and the air was cool against her naked skin. Her nipples tightened at the sensual feel of the moment, and at the sight of her nude husband who lay flat on his back. Even in slumber, his semi-erect cock was an impressive sight.

She eased onto the bed and snuggled next to Jalen. Warmth radiated from him, filling her with a sense of well being and love. My heartmate, Ranelle murmured in thought, holding her hand to his heart and feeling the strength of its beat. His heart seemed to quicken at her words, or perhaps at the feel of her skin next to his.

Perhaps she might wake him in her own fashion.

She eased up and straddled him, her knees to either side of his hips. Slowly she moved her lips across his massive chest. She pressed butterfly kisses to his skin, drinking in his heady male scent that grew more intoxicating by the moment.

Jalen stirred and murmured beneath her touch. Her own heart beat faster as she sensed him awakening and felt his cock hardening against her belly. Smiling, she continued kissing his chest, flicking her tongue against his salty skin as she worked her way lower and lower, until she reached her prize.

A groan rumbled in Jalen’s chest as her lips slid over his cock. Her tongue swirled over the head, tasting a drop of salty-sweet semen, as her fingers traced the enrli above his staff. In the next moment his hands fisted in her hair.

“By the goddess, woman,” he murmured, his tone husky as she sucked his cock. “You know how to wake a man.”

Intense pleasure filled her at the sound of his voice and the knowledge that he was finally awake. But she concentrated on her task at hand, and mouth, sucking and stroking him until he shouted. His delicious come filled her mouth, the taste of it as fine as any dessert she had ever sampled.