Knight Awakened (Circle of Seven #1) (49 page)

“Aye,” he murmured, glancing at his arm. The gash delivered by an Al Pacii sword was almost gone. Healed by her magic, naught but a faint line remained. Soon even that would go, leaving him without a scar to show for the pain. “You are good for me.”

She huffed, half-sob, half-laugh. “Hardly. I almost got you killed...again.”

“
Draga
,” he said, tone gentle yet full of warning. She wasn’t to blame; not for Dax or the fact Vladimir Barbu had tracked her to Drachaven. “’Tis over, love. Let it go.”

She drew her knees in closer, bumping his rib cage. “I can’t.”

“Aye, you can...’tis best and right that you do.” He nudged her chin, encouraging her to raise her head. With a shiver, she denied him, tucking her face into his chest, not wanting to meet his gaze. Xavian wanted to sigh. Instead he hugged her tighter, using his body to comfort her. “All is well, Afina. Dax is safe. His wounds will heal and the men returned home safely.”

“Even Hamund?”

Xavian hung onto his temper. Hearing the captain’s name made him want to hit something. Damn fool. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d let Afina walk in there all alone, for Christ’s sake.

“You didn’t hurt him, did you?” she asked, her voice small, her index finger drawing loops on his collarbone. “It wasn’t his fault. I didn’t give him a choice.”

He knew that too. ’Twas the reason Hamund was still alive. Not that the captain wouldn’t be sporting a few spectacular bruises from Xavian’s well-placed fists come the morrow. But Afina didn’t need to know about that. “Don’t worry about Hamund.”

“What about Shay?”

Rahat.
Why must she worry over everyone but herself? ’Twas her nature to nurture, he knew, but...Christ. She deserved equal attention. “Look at me, and I’ll tell you.”

She shook her head. He cupped her nape, massaged as he coaxed her chin up. Her lashes lay in wet, spiked layers on her cheeks. Lowering his head, he kissed the corner of her mouth, nipped her with his teeth, wanting inside. Waiting for her wasn’t working. She needed a push, a distraction to take her mind off her troubles and put it squarely on him. Eyes still closed, she parted her lips and, with a sigh, accepted his tongue. Hmm, she tasted good, a delight that never failed to please him. He went a little deeper, worked her a little harder until she rose in his lap, curled her hands in his hair, demanding more.

With a flick, he withdrew, and when she followed, he kissed her again. ’Twas short, sweet, not half of what he wanted, but all she needed. “Shay is playing chess with your brother.”

Afina blinked. “What?”

“In the great hall.”

She met his gaze for the first time, relief shadowing the pain. “You’re letting him stay?”

“For now.” Palming her waist, he lifted her from his lap and nudged her legs open. She settled astride him without complaint, knees pressed against his hips, bottom cradled by his thighs. One hand on her hip, he cupped her face with the other, holding her still as he searched her gaze. Her pupils were still too large, but the eye color had shifted, becoming less green. “I know he saved your life, but until I know more he bears watching.”

“Do you think he’s a spy?” With a sigh, she turned her cheek into his palm, accepting his caress.

“Could be.” Xavian shrugged, not convinced one way or the other. He hoped it was the
other
. The young assassin fought well and seemed sincere. Whether he joined their ranks and made Drachaven his home, however, remained to be seen. Though the thought was seductive. With Shay in the fold, their number came to seven. The old Al Pacii prophecy circled...

And out of the ashes seven warriors shall rise. Bringers of death, they shall wreak vengeance upon the earth, until shadow is driven into darkness and only the light remains.

Jesu, how often had he heard that? Too many times to count. Was the goddess’s purpose for him tangled up with the fate of his friends...the assassins who had followed him from Grey Keep? Was it wishful thinking come to life or the fallacy he’d always believed? Whatever the case, it deserved his consideration, but not now. Now was for Afina.

“Halál is clever. Sending Shay to win my trust is not far-fetched. What better way to disturb my plans than to plant a mole at the heart of Drachaven?”

“It makes sense,” she said, nodding once before her brows drew tight. “I wish Halál had been there...I wish you’d killed him.”

“The way you did Vladimir,” he said, pushing the door she’d just opened wide. She shook her head, tried to slam it shut, deny herself peace and him a chance to help her. Xavian wedged himself in tight, refusing to allow her retreat. “Nay...don’t. I am here to listen. Talk to me, Afina...get it out.”

A hitch in her breath, she glanced away. He watched her closely, tried to be patient, wondering if he needed to lay her down—love her outright—to help her let go. The traitor between his legs loved the suggestion. His mind rebelled, not wanting to use the tactic. Aye, he yearned to make love to her, but not like this...when she was hurting so badly. He needed her to confide in him, not because he ruled her body, but because she wanted to. Foolish, mayhap, but it all came down to trust. She loved him, aye, but did she trust him enough to tell him her secrets?

Just as the silence got to be too much, she said, “It hurts inside...right here.”

An ache throbbed behind his breastbone, squeezing his rib cage so tight he tasted the burn. Raising his hand, he placed it atop hers, right over her heart. “Heavy? Like a huge weight is pressing down and you cannot breathe?”

She nodded and choked out, “Goddess, how do you stand it?”

Sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he just held on, clung to the hope peace would come, along with forgiveness. “Taking another’s life is never easy. But ’tis less difficult for me. I was trained to fight...to take...from an early age. You were not.” He paused, brushed the hair from her temple, choosing his words with care. “Sweet love, ’twas a necessary thing, taking Vladimir’s life. ’Twas kill or be killed.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she asked, her voice pained, fraught with frustration and shame. “In my mind, I know there was no other way...but in my heart...” She tapped her chest, struggling to find the right words. “In my heart...Xavian, I looked into his eyes...saw the light drain away. It was different the first time...You remember...the slaver and the axe?”

“I remember.”

“But I...was so close. Felt the dagger go in, all the blood on my hands and...his eyes, they...” she trailed off, bottom lip trembling. He kissed the quiver away, murmured against her mouth, encouraging her to continue. He understood the pain, the guilt...the need to justify. But more than that, he knew she needed to give the hurt a voice. ’Twas the only way the healing would begin. “I just...I mean, I know there was no choice. He would have enslaved me, killed you, but inside...the tightness won’t go away.”

“’Twill ease with time.”

She dipped her head, nestling in against him. Voice muffled, she whispered against his throat, “Promise?”

“Promise,” he murmured, holding her tight. They stayed that way for a while, chests rising and falling in time. Warm water lapped at them, a slight echo against limestone. The quiet sound should have calmed him, but it didn’t, and as Afina relaxed his tension built. ’Twas time...time to tell her everything. But now that he stood on the precipice, he didn’t know where to start. Did he leap first and look later? Or take the safe route and ease in? Xavian swallowed. Easing in sounded good.

“Afina...”

“Hmmm.”

“Do me a favor?”

The seriousness of his tone brought her head up. “What?”

“Don’t go off alone again,” he said, his chest so tight the words came hard. He cleared his throat. “I need to tell you something. ’Tisn’t easy for me...I’m not...”

Patient and gentle, she raised her hand, stroked his hair, giving him time.

A moment passed, stretched, turning into many. The silence wasn’t welcome this time. It wound him tight, cranking until the pressure became too much and he leapt in, feet first. “If anything were to happen to you, I don’t know what...I couldn’t...Afina, I love you.” Her gasp encouraged him and he plunged deeper, emptying his heart, confessing all. “You give me purpose, beyond what the goddess wants. I am your shield. You are my reason. I cannot live without you now.”

“Xavian,” she whispered his name like a benediction, love in each note. “You are so much more than just mine. You are goodness and strength...kindness and honor. My mate. My love. My life.”

He touched his mouth to hers, overwhelmed by her and all she gave him. “I am yours for all time.”

Her breath hitched. He tasted her tears as she whispered, “I love you too.”

“How did I get so lucky?” The question was rhetorical, one not meant to be answered, but served its purpose. He felt Afina’s mood rise, lighten as she huffed. After giving her a gentle squeeze, he drew away to see her face and gauge her reaction. “And now we need a priest.”

Her lips parted before coming together to form a beautiful little “O.” “You want to...to...truly?”

“Aye,” he said, warming to Henrik’s demand. In truth, it seemed more his idea now and not much like his friend’s at all. “Will you wed with me, love?”

The smile reached her eyes before he saw it on her mouth. “When?”

“As soon as one can be found and brought to Drachaven.”

Something in his tone tipped her off and her eyes narrowed. “You won’t steal the priest, will you? You’ll ask him to come, right?”

His lips curved. He couldn’t help himself. She knew him so well. Stealing people was part of what he did and exactly what he had planned.

“Xavian,” she said, a warning in her tone. She backed it up with a stern look. “You cannot go about taking people from their homes.”

“Why not? It’s how I got a hold of you...and look how well that turned out.”

She scowled at him.

Xavian grinned. Jesu, he loved her temper. Though how she thought to lecture him while sitting naked in his lap was anyone’s guess. She managed well for a moment or two before he turned the tables and started to tease. A flick of the tongue here, a heated touch there had her gasping, arching, demanding more. Settling in for a long loving, he gave her what she wanted and he craved, setting a pace designed for her pleasure. But he knew the truth, he pleased himself too...hadn’t lied. He
was
the lucky one. Afina was the light in his darkness; her acceptance more than a gift. ’Twas his salvation, and no matter the challenges that lay ahead, the future looked bright.

At thirteen years old, I never imagined a chance meeting with a history book would lead me here. Surprising really, but falling in love with the medieval era set me on a path...the one I was most meant to walk. This book is proof enough of that.

Many thanks to Christine Witthohn, literary agent extraordinaire. You believed in me first and worked hard to make it happen. You are the absolute best!

To Eleni Caminis, my amazingly talented editor. Thank you for all your hard work, dedication, and support. But most of all, for believing in this book and being as excited about the Circle of Seven series as I am. And the entire Amazon Publishing team whose talents, energy, and enthusiasm never cease to amaze me. I so enjoy working with all of you!

With love to my family. None of this would be possible without you. Thank you a thousand times over.

Last but not least, to Kallie Lane, critique partner, fellow writer, and friend. Thanks for all the BS sessions, insights, and laughter. It’s always a blast! And to the MTL gang and ORWA. I always learn a ton when you’re around.

I raise a glass to all of you!

Image © Julie Daniluk

As the only girl on all-guys hockey teams from age six through her college years, Coreene Callahan knows a thing or two about tough guys and loves to write about them. Call it kismet. Call it payback after years of locker room talk and ice rink antics. But whatever you call it, the action better be heart stopping, the magic electric, and the story wicked good fun.

After graduating with honors in psychology and working as an interior designer, Callahan finally succumbed to her over-active imagination and returned to her first love: writing. And when she’s not writing, she is dreaming of magical worlds full of dragon-shifters, elite assassins, and romance that’s too hot to handle. Callahan currently lives in Canada with her family and her writing buddy, a fun-loving golden retriever.