Sabine (3 page)

Sabine studied him, not even breathing. Finally, she exhaled a shaky sigh. “You've saved me. No matter what happens now, you've already saved me, love.”

“I
will
save you.” He allowed himself two steps forward. Just two, so he could stand at the foot of the bed, close enough to pretend their scents were entwined. “This is only a reminder. When the spell is broken, I want you shaking at the thought of how many ways I'll take you.”

She nodded slowly. “A reminder.”

“Yes. Of how good we can be.” His cock ached, so he wrapped his hand around it without looking away from her. His own touch was nothing—he'd had more of it than he cared to think of. It was her gaze on him, the way she watched him, that made pleasure tingle at the base of his spine. “Lie on your back.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she obeyed, but when she lay before him, her thighs spread, she kept her gaze on him. “Yes?”

“Yes.” He wanted to bury his face between her legs, lick her cunt until she screamed for him. He curled his free hand around the bedpost so he would not reach for her. “Touch yourself. One finger only.”

There was that smile again, wicked this time as she trailed her fingertip up the inside of her thigh. “Where?”

Arousal grew into a painful throb. “Open yourself for me. Let me see that sweet little pearl before you touch it.”

Sabine fidgeted on the bed, but her voice was a tease. “How am I to do that with only one finger?”

His low growl would have sent brave men running in fear. “
Sabine
.”

“Ciar,” she chided. “I am not one of your soldiers.” As she spoke, she slipped her fingers through blonde curls and lower, revealing the tiny bud he longed to feel beneath his tongue. “I am your lover.”

“Sometimes you obey my commands,” he whispered. “When it pleases us both, you're quick enough to show your throat and bend to my will.”

“Like I said…” She dipped her finger inside her body, made it wet and silky before circling the sensitive flesh he'd ordered her to touch. “I am your lover.”

She was his lover, and more. He knew that—his heart
swore
to it, but his analytical mind could already see the blurry edges. Pieces missing, like an inexorable tide carrying his memories out to sea a grain at a time.

That gave him the strength not to touch her. Instead he stroked his cock, too slow and gentle to give relief. “Not so much longer. Then you will have my tongue where your fingers are. My lips. I remember how sweet you scream when you come under my mouth.”

“I remember, yes.” She trembled, touching herself as she watched his hand. “I could taste myself on your tongue.”

“And then you would taste me.” His fingers tightened, and he groaned. “You always did like to tease me. Thrust your fingers deep into your cunt. I would see your ecstasy.”

She obeyed with a soft moan, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she rocked against her palm, two fingers nestled inside her body.

If he didn't stop stroking himself, he would come before she did, but he couldn't force his hand to still. His callused fingers dragged over his length in the same rhythm as her hand. “Faster, Sabine. Make yourself come.”

“This is a dream.” She fucked her fingers deeper, her eyes glazing with pleasure. “This is all a—” A hoarse cry swallowed the words as she flushed and shuddered, writhing on the coverlet. His name escaped her on a whisper as she rode her release, a soft exhalation full of possession and pleading.

Ciar couldn't stop his growl, or the rush of instinctive pleasure. The wolf was past ready to claim his woman, to mate her once and for all. Bind her to them with sex and magic, make her what she should have been all along—
theirs
.

Soon,
he promised himself as he watched her twist on the bed.
Soon.

Then he gave in to the needs of his body and gripped his shaft hard, jerking his hand over it with practiced speed until the sight of Sabine with her slick fingers inside her pushed him over the edge.

Panting and disheveled, she watched him with yearning. “I've never seen anything more beautiful.”

Ciar needed his grip on the bedpost to keep his feet. “You'll be free to look on me every day for the rest of your life.”

Sabine rolled to her side and brushed her hair from her face. “Now I'm sleepy, and we've not yet eaten.”

“Then rest. I'll wake you when the food arrives.”

She blinked several times. “Ciar?”

“Yes?”

Impending slumber thickened her voice. “I've missed you terribly.”

His heart ached. “Now you won't have to. I intend to mate you, Sabine. You'll be mine. I'll be yours. Soon, I promise.”

Chapter Three

Sabine woke to the sound of the door closing and the rich scent of roasted fowl. She sat up on the bed, her nakedness forgotten.

Until Ciar looked at her.

She slid from the bed and retrieved her shift with a blush. “How long did I sleep?”

“Not long.” He wore his pants and nothing else as he brought the heavy tray to the table set in the corner of their room. “You were very tired.”

She couldn't tear her gaze from his bare chest. “You must be exhausted too.”

He smiled. “This is more luxury than I've been accustomed to.”

That was especially true for her, and it had helped her create an illusion, a fantasy. For a little while, she'd let herself believe that everything was normal now. Exactly the way it used to be.

“Don't look so sad, love.” Ciar pulled back a chair and waved to it, a sweeping, gallant gesture. “Eat. We have a long way to run tomorrow.”

Sabine obeyed in silence, slipping onto the chair. The food looked and smelled delicious, but her appetite couldn't compete with her worry.

Every moment she spent with Ciar, it became easier to convince herself this was different.
He
was different. And if he woke the next morning with no recollection of how he'd come to be there—or even who she was—it would hurt a thousand times worse than it would have the day before.

“Sabine.” He settled in his chair, then met her gaze squarely. “I'll not lie to you. I can feel the magic of the spell. And that's good, is it not? Stealing memories a bit at a time is better than losing them all at once, and it will give us time to find a solution.”

The depth of the grief that seized her was surprising. “You're forgetting.”

“Slowly,” he said, voice firm. “But I'm making new memories too. I won't forget all of you. I'll
never
forget all of you.”

Some things shouldn't be slow. A quick end was preferable, one slash of the executioner's blade instead of being left to bleed and linger. “Of course.”

The growl that tore free of him sounded frustrated. “Why do you have no faith in me?”

“It isn't—” Three years, and she didn't know how to talk to anyone anymore, even Ciar. “You have a strong spirit, and I know you loved me. If anyone can wade through this spell, this
curse
, it's you.”

“I can, and I will. Believe in me.” He smiled suddenly. “I made an alliance with the cats. Lions and wolves fought a war together and won. I can do the impossible.”

Her hand shook as she reached for her wine. It wasn't a matter of trust, or even Ciar's will, and yet she had no choice but to open herself to the possibility. If she refused, if she shut him out, she might be able to protect herself. But to what end? A miserable, lonely life?

“I trust you,” she whispered finally. The truth, though they barely knew each other anymore. War had certainly changed him, and her situation had changed her.

He still knew her well enough to read her thoughts in her eyes. “This is just a trial. Once we're past it, we'll have all the time in the world to learn each other again.”

All the time in the world, but her greatest fear lingered—that no magic in the world could change what was done, and he was doomed to forget her no matter what they did.

 

 

The sun had already sunk low in the west, but the heat of the day lingered. Sabine panted and stopped beside a fallen tree, bracing her paws on the rotting wood.
“Can we camp here?”

Ciar stopped a few paces away, a tall, powerful wolf with fur the same sandy color as his untamed hair. He lifted his head and sniffed the wind, then turned once.
“A little farther. There's a cabin over this hill, one we have tended so court officials will have a place to sleep on long journeys.”

Not as fancy as their lodgings the night before, but at least they'd probably be alone. The stress of staying at the inn had been something she'd tried to hide from Ciar, though she was sure he'd noticed her reaction as they departed. The innkeeper had acted puzzled, as though he'd never seen her, and Sabine had all but fled.

“Very well.”
She followed him over the rise and was relieved to see the cabin was small, and no smoke rose from the chimney.

“Just the two of us,”
he promised.
“A quiet night.”

“Don't worry about me, Ciar. I'm fine.”
Then, before he could contradict her, she ran toward the cabin.

The magic came sluggishly, as it always did when she was nervous about her surroundings. Instinct told her to stay on four legs, to ready herself for danger as a wolf.

She changed anyway and tugged at the cabin door. The latch turned, but the door didn't move. “Sealed with magic?”

A yip. Ciar shimmered, became a man. “I have a token. The cabins are locked with enchantments.”

Inside, it was neat and clean, meticulously so. Two bedchambers, and Sabine breathed a sigh of relief. “There's an extra bed.”

His lips twitched as he closed the door. “Under different circumstances, hearing those words in such a pleased tone would wound my ego.”

“You know I didn't mean it that way.”

“I know.” He nodded toward the corner, where a stove and a few cupboards formed a makeshift kitchen. “Do you feel adventurous enough to cook tonight?”

“That depends on you. Are you going to hunt?”

“What would my lady like for her stew pot?”

His mock formality made her laugh. “Whatever my lord wishes to bring back.”

“A few bunnies? Perhaps a bird? If this place is properly stocked, there will be a bow and arrow in the shed.”

“Pheasant?”

“Done.” Longing unfurled in his eyes as he leaned against the wall and watched her. “Do you ever wish we could have lived like this? Two people, alone in the woods?”

“From time to time.” A secret fantasy, because it was selfish to want him to love her that much, enough to abandon his life.

And yet he offered nonetheless. “If it would save you, I would walk away from everything. If you needed me to…”

It would slowly kill him. He was a leader, the High Lord, and if he couldn't care for his people, he would die. “No, Ciar. You have responsibilities, ones that make you who you are.”

“Yes, I suppose I do. It doesn't mean we couldn't escape once in a while.”

He might think the war had changed him, but there was a warmth, a goodness inside him that couldn't be touched. “I'd like that.”

His nod sent golden hair cascading over his forehead. “Good enough. I'm going to hunt. No one else will be able to cross the threshold unless you bid them to.”

“I'll be fine.” Unless he took to the woods for his hunt and forgot why he was even there in the first place.

Some fear must have shown on her face. In her eyes. “Do you wish me to stay?”

It would mean eating dried meat and whatever was to be found at the cabin. “I won't say I'm not concerned, but it's silly.”

“It's not silly if it vexes you.” Ciar strode closer, then paused. “Is it skin to skin that makes the magic worse?”

“Anything.” Did that hoarse whisper belong to her? “Any kind of contact.”

His jaw tightened. “You have no idea how desperately I want to hold you. Not for my own sake, but for yours.”

Her mother had hugged her, held her as she cried. And then… “
No.
”

A sigh left him. “I know. I'll be back soon. I promise.”

She wished the curse hadn't stolen the comfort of that promise from her. But the sincerity of the words humbled her, left her with no choice but to believe.

 

 

When it happened, it was a small thing.

It wasn't the loss of his self-control or an act of unbearable hunger. His will didn't shatter, nor did his resolve waver.

He reached for the pitcher of water at the same time as Sabine, and their hands touched.

Just that. One brush of fingers, but he felt magic snap around him like a vise, claws digging under his skin until he hissed in pain.

Sabine yanked her hand back with a cry and a clatter as she knocked her cup from the table. “Damn it.
Damn
it.”

He was such a fool. A blindingly idiotic fool, and the only thought that came to his mind was,
It doesn't matter now.

The table was in the way, so he flipped it over with one swipe of his hand and reached out, snatching her around the waist. He dragged her to him so fast she collided with his chest, and he didn't
care
. Nothing mattered but kissing her.

“Ciar.” She clung to him, her fingers clenched in his shirt, as if she couldn't bear to let go. He drew his hands up her back and curled them in her hair with a helpless groan.

Her lips parted under his. He told himself to take his time, to kiss her slowly, but she was sweet and hungry and his tongue drove into her mouth before he could stop himself, tasting everything he'd missed.

Sabine growled, her teeth sinking into his lower lip as she tore at his vest. The accidental touch left them free because of their desperation—they had nothing more to lose, and everything to gain from tumbling into one another, even for a little while.