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She looked content beyond words and so beautiful, maybe even prettier than her wolf counterpart, Aralynn. He’d just never allowed himself to think of Rosamunde as a woman before.
Yet here he was, still buried inside her and half stiff because her blood had him pumped. Sweet Goddess, he’d just fucked the Queen of Ferrenden Peace and given a little encouragement, he would do it again.
The queen who wasn’t supposed to be a queen. A woman who’d lived in isolation her entire life.
He still wasn’t convinced she couldn’t have battled Margetta. Davido might have a boatload of power, but he was fallible and Stone had always sensed that an infinite kind of capacity existed within Rosamunde. But what if that was the elf-lord power, and her painful connection to it, and not her own innate ability?
He had a lot to think about.
When he finally withdrew from her, he pulled up his leathers and tucked himself back inside.
Her eyes blinked open, a lethargic movement that told him volumes about how she was feeling. She even looked around then chuckled. “I saw stars. No, I mean, really. I was transported into another galaxy. I swear it.”
So, this was Rosamunde, with a sexed up, satiated look on her face, her blood flowing with feel-good hormones, a smile on her lips. She’d always looked fairly stern the few times he’d been in her presence. Now she was here, his blood rose.
His.
For the first time, since he’d learned the truth about who she was, he felt torn.
She met his gaze. “Oh. Right. You’re still mad at me.” She glanced at the forest floor. “You know what. I’ll be right back. I need to freshen up. But stay here.”
He didn’t want her to go.
When she reached for her clothes, he grabbed at her with both hands to keep her with him, but she’d already vanished.
Strange, how empty the space felt without her in it. Yet, with all that he had to think about, it helped to have some distance.
He walked in a slow circle, the pines towering above him. A light breeze blew and the forest made its soft shushing sound.
It took him a moment to gain his bearings. He’d made a smart move, taking her to the middle of the Dauphaire forest, miles away from the nearest village. She’d let loose with a series of cries that would have been heard otherwise. His own shouts, when he’d come, had split the night sky as well.
He wasn’t sure, though, what to do with Rosamunde right now. It was clear he had to keep her close, but he didn’t relish the idea. She’d deceived him for weeks now, knowing exactly who she was and how he felt about her.
As Aralynn, early on she’d asked him not to disparage the queen too much. Now he knew why.
He heard sounds high in the air. He looked up, and saw a red wind. Holy fuck, Invictus, this far out, in the forest.
He thought about his battle partner and made a quick decision. Maybe he had to keep Rosamunde close for now, but it would help if he saw her in her other form, the one more wolf than fae.
Rosamunde. I need Aralynn. If you’re game, I’ve got what looks like four Invictus pair and they’re ready to fight. I’m moving into a larger clearing. The wraith-pairs are circling in the air.
Aralynn’s voice came back strong. On my way.
~ ~ ~
Rosamunde heard the tone of Stone’s voice and knew exactly what needed to be done. She could almost see the wraith-pairs.
She’d returned to the cottage to get cleaned up and had been debating whether she should put on a fresh pair of jeans, or something else.
Something else it was as she drew a new set of battle leathers from her closet: Green vest, black boots, matching pants. The latter had silver medallions down the sides to the knees, which the boots then picked up.
All set, she teleported to Stone’s side, dagger in hand.
But he frowned at her. “You’re not Aralynn. I think we need her here right now.”
She glanced up at him. His stern, disapproving expression had returned. She lifted her chin. “I am Aralynn. If I need to transform, I will. And you need to get used to who and what am I. Now.”
“Fine. This clearing that we’re in won’t leave much room for maneuvering. So, I want your back against mine.”
