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I’d thought a lot about Rheged and its place as the host kingdom for my father’s secret court. Long ago, had Rheged been greedy? Had they invited my father and his people in, granting them secret sanctuary after being lured with promises of power and riches? Or had my father given them no other choice?
For how long, I wondered, had Rheged been little more than a puppet state? Ruled from behind the throne, quite literally, by the Black Mountain and Gorlois le Fay.
And for what purpose overall? To send Eskira spiraling into chaos. Kingdom against kingdom, until finally, after lands had been ruined and peoples destroyed, my father’s court would surface and take the entire continent as his prize.
It was a chilling vision of an all-too possible future.
One that awaited us if we failed.
Yet the self-doubt was equally agonizing. Was I doing the opposite of what my father expected by refusing to meet him again on the battlefield? Or was I playing right into his hands by bringing the sword and the grail into the heart of his dark territory?
I glanced around at the five riders accompanying me, and my eyes lit upon Lancelet.
She rode beside Guinevere. They were holding hands between their horses.
I smiled. Not an easy feat. But I admired the attempt, even though if they kept it up for much longer, their horses might become rather annoyed.
The looks between them were as muted and subtle as the two women could make them. But they were not invisible. Not to me.
Lancelet radiated a quiet joy. While Guinevere... Well, she was less readable. But she seemed happy. More relaxed than I had ever seen her. Not simply the superficial calm she always seemed to possess, but something that went below that tranquil surface.
I wondered now if the tranquility had been a mask she had been forced to wear all these long months, through her ordeal with my brother, the loss of Merlin, and then her great responsibility in overseeing the temple.
Was this the closest thing to a holiday she might ever have? I pursed my lips together.
“What’s so funny?” Draven asked, riding up beside me.
I looked at him and felt wicked. “I was simply thinking about the way your cock felt in my mouth this morning. So long and hard and thick.”
I watched as my mate’s eyes widened slightly.
Then something incredible happened.
“By the Three, Draven,” I said with delight. “Are you actually blushing?”
“Fae don’t blush.” His jaw clenched tightly.
I hooted. “That’s absolutely untrue. I blush all the time.” I peered at his warm, brown skin. “Yes, I definitely detect the hint of a blush there behind my husband’s beautiful, golden-brown cheeks.”
“Impossible,” he scoffed, tossing his head. “Perhaps Valtain fae blush, but Siabra don’t.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Oooh, that’s a low blow.”
I glanced back at Gawain and Hawl who were riding behind us.
“Shall I speak in more detail of not just the feel of your cock in my mouth, but the taste?” I made my voice become a throaty purr. “The taste of you as you spilled into my mouth and poured your rich seed down my throat as I hungrily sucked, desperate for more, more, more?”
Draven’s hand shot out like a flash and wrapped around my wrist.
I squeaked.
“Not unless,” he said through gritted teeth, “you wish for me to pull you from your horse, toss you over my shoulder, and take you in that rocky field over there while the rest of our friends blush and look away. Not unless you wish for your cries of pleasure to fill the air from here to the Black Mountain itself.”
I gasped as his green eyes pierced through me, rendering me naked with a single glance, undressing me from head to toe.
“Stop that,” I accused. “It’s not fair. It’s too easy for you.”
“Not fair?” He laughed. “But what you just did to me was?”
