Sword's Call (18 page)

His chest was beautiful—broad, yet lean, leading to a trim waist, displaying prominent abdominal muscles. Nearly hairless, with only a small path of dark curls beneath his navel disappearing into his breeches. His well-defined muscles rippled even with the slightest movement as he undressed.

Jorrin’s strong arms begged for her hands.

Cera had never seen him fully naked, but if she stood there much longer, she’d get the chance.

He met her eyes, hands on his open breeches. “I had no idea my love was a voyeur.” Jorrin laughed, his eyes daring her.

The slight breeze shifted his dark hair, hiding one of his tapered ears for a moment. Color lit his high cheekbones, a teasing smile curved his full mouth.

She panted, struggling for breath as longing settled over her. Her body trembled, desire throbbing low in her belly.

Stay or go?

She wasn’t naïve enough not to recognize physical desire just because she’d never been with a man.

Cera wanted Jorrin, and he wanted her just as badly. If she stayed on the shore, maybe he wouldn’t tell her it wasn’t time like he had in Hadrian’s barn.

The look in his eyes scorched her as much as one of his kisses.

“I love you,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “Well . . . I’ll go. Give you some privacy. I’ll call you when the meal is ready if you’re not back by then.”

She jogged away from him, Trikser on her heels.

Coward.

Jorrin chuckled and shook his head as he watched her go. She hadn’t even given him the chance to assure her that he didn’t want or need privacy from her, but Cera wanted him.

She’d made no attempt to hide her desire, her passion for him.

Even if he didn’t have empathic magic, the look on her face would have made him hard as a rock—which happened to be his current state of discomfort.

His blood was singing, and he’d only kissed her once. Jorrin wished he could’ve taken the time to make love to her, but the shore of a lake wasn’t any better than Hadrian’s barn.

It’d killed him every time he’d had to stop her exploring hands the few times he’d held her. Chiding himself to stop kissing her before he got swept away was becoming too-normal—and left him burning for her.

He shed the rest of his clothing and shivered as he stepped into the frigid water. At least the lake would cool his ardor—maybe.

When he rejoined everyone at the ruins, entering what used to be the castle, Avery was speaking in serious hushed tones, so Jorrin quickened his step.

Was he missing something important?

The younger man had drawn a diagram of what had to be Castle Lenore in the dirt at his feet; Braedon and Hadrian were studying it.

Avery was gesturing to various points on his map and shaking his head. His face was white as a sheet.

“What’s wrong?” Jorrin asked.

“My mother’s locked in her rooms. She doesn’t know where my father is. She can’t cast, they have some sort of spell on her . . . or her rooms. It took them three days to break her protection shield and get in. Varthan was very, very angry. He killed our family’s entire personal guard.” The younger man’s tone broke; Avery was fighting back a sob.

Jorrin glanced at his father as Braedon rested a comforting hand on Avery’s forearm.

Braedon paled, his expression pained. Jorrin was suddenly glad he was not as much of an empath as his father.

“I will kill him.” Cera joined them by Hadrian’s fire. She had her magic sword clutched in her hands and her cheeks were tear-stained.

Trikser was right behind her, but he was wary, tail between his legs.

Jorrin turned away from the sword so it couldn’t affect him, but he could already feel the tug of its magic. He blocked it out as best he could.

“They were good men. I’ve known most of them from childhood.” Avery had tears in his eyes. “I know their families . . .”

“Your mother wasn’t put in any danger speaking with you?” Jorrin asked, trying to take Avery’s attention from the men. His heart ached for Cera’s cousin and his father, who was affected by what they all were feeling.

“No, she said the shade who guards her is all brawn, and the weakest in magic, from what she can tell. She thinks his name is Athas. She said there are only four, and he’s not at her door at all times. They must have confidence on the spell over her rooms.”

“Four? That’s all?” Jorrin asked.

“Yes. They work together. The one the bastard keeps at his side is the real danger. She said he’s very young, but very powerful. Varthan thinks he’s the key to breaking the spell on the sword.”

“I
will
kill him,” Cera repeated.

She was so wrong about that.

He
would handle it, but now was no time to argue with her.

Jorrin grabbed her arm and tugged her down onto a large log that had been dragged inside for seating. He threw an arm around her shoulders as soon as they were seated, but she was taut against him. “Cera, relax. It’s all right,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek.

Trikser whimpered, but lay at their feet.

She glanced at Jorrin, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips as she put down the sword. “Thanks,” she whispered, but her expression was distant.

Trikser pawed at her feet.

Jorrin absently put his hand out and stroked the wolf’s head, freezing and staring at the soft white fur under his fingertips. He made eye contact with Trikser for a split second, but turned away. He wasn’t making a challenge for dominance and wanted Trik to know that, but Cera’s bondmate licked his hand and wagged his tail. Jorrin bit back a gasp.

Cera looked at Trikser, then at Jorrin and smiled. She relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“He says he’s accepted you, lad,” Hadrian said, smiling.

Braedon also wore a soft smile.

The interruption was a mood lifter for them all.

Jorrin took a breath and scratched Trikser’s ear until the big wolf leaned into his leg. “That’s great. We can really be a team, now.”

Cera grinned, patting his thigh and giving her bond a good scratch behind his other ear.
You’ll spoil him to death now,
she thought-sent.

Jorrin grinned.

Trikser had rarely growled at him lately, and he’d wagged his tail in his direction quite a bit. Acceptance was good. He could get closer to them both.

Cera would have Trikser for life; they might as well like each other.

“But what else did your mother say, Avery?” Jorrin asked.

“Varthan didn’t kill my father, she’d feel it if he was gone; but she’s afraid he’s been injured. She can only sense him some of the time, but it could be the spell.”

“He can’t get off on me watching Uncle Everett die if he’s already killed him, so I agree with Aunt Em. He’ll use them both to get the sword. And he won’t try to kill her until he decides whether or not he can use her magic to his advantage.” Cera took a breath.

Jorrin squeezed her against his side, wincing as her fears and grief hit his magic. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and shield her from all this.

Avery nodded. “She thinks so, too. That’s why she was untouched and left in her rooms. He didn’t even try to beat her, which surprised me. Knowing his infamous temper and since it took so long for them to gain access to the castle.”

“The king should’ve been alerted by now,” Braedon remarked.

“You think?” Jorrin asked, glancing at his father.

“A whole Province deserted? I should think so,” Hadrian said.

“Yes, I already told Cera and Jorrin my father sent word the same day I left to find her.”

“Don’t you think there should be an army arriving then? We were at Hadrian’s almost a fortnight . . .” Cera mused.

“Well, now King Nathal has definitive proof of Varthan’s actions,” Braedon said. “One would think he has enough evidence to have him put to death for all the murders he’s committed alone. Not to mention his . . . other crimes.” His father shot a look at his love.

Rape
was unsaid.

“King Nathal won’t have to kill Varthan,” Cera said. “I’m going to run him through.” She thrust her sword forward, her jaw locked, full lips in a hard line.

The sword’s magic swirled, making Jorrin’s head spin. He blinked.

“Lass, have you ever taken a life?” Hadrian’s tone was gentle. The look on her face was all the answer the elf needed. “I thought not. Let Braedon and me handle Varthan.”

“You don’t need blood on your hands, dearheart,” Braedon added in the same gentle tone.

“I’ll kill him,” she vowed, brandishing a fist. “I
will
kill him. He killed my family.”

Braedon and Hadrian exchanged a look, but said nothing more on the matter.

“My mother said Varthan rarely leaves the great hall. All the servants he didn’t kill are forced to wait on him and his shades hand and foot. I’m sure he’s taken liberties with the girls as if they were willing bar wenches.” Avery growled.

Avery’s family probably cared deeply for and took great care of all those who served Castle Lenore. Cera had told him the same was true of those in service to Castle Ryhan and Greenwald. Cera and Avery were some of the most unusual nobles he’d ever met.

“I have to admit the numbers are much more equal than I had imagined,” Jorrin mused as Avery pointed out the various locations on his diagram in the dirt.

“They are highly trained shades and malicious,” Hadrian admonished. “They have no conscience. They’ll kill you with a spell before you can even prepare yourself for it, lad.”

“Plus they are trained with the sword as well,” Cera said. “Varthan loves to make them well-rounded, dutiful little minions.”

“Mother is sure the youngest is the true threat, but she noticed he cowers even when Varthan isn’t directly addressing him,” Avery said.

“That may work to our advantage.” Hadrian scratched his bearded chin.

“Blessed Spirit knows what kind of things he’s witnessed at Varthan’s hands,” Cera said. “He gets them any way he can. As soon as someone senses their potential, he buys, kidnaps, kills their parents—whatever it takes. Even if this boy is young, there’s no telling how long Varthan’s had him. Turns, if he’s one of the elite. Maybe from infancy.”

“We can’t let Varthan use him to break the spell. Especially if he’s as powerful as my mother senses.”

“Then we take him out first,” Braedon said.

“I agree,” Hadrian said. “Stun him and get him away from Varthan.”

The breath Cera had been holding erupted from her lungs. She relaxed against Jorrin when the elf referenced stunning the boy. Her eyes were wide, she gnawed her bottom lip. Jorrin’s magic only told him she was apprehensive, but he didn’t miss the look Braedon shot her. What had his father caught that his powers hadn’t?

“My lady, a tender heart does not have a place here. Fear is one thing, but it doesn’t mean the boy would hesitate to kill you.”

“I know.” She looked down. “I know we all put our lives at risk. There’s nothing I can do to adequately thank you all, but I don’t want anyone else to die, except Varthan.”

“I don’t plan on it, lass.” Hadrian grinned, making a fist.

“Me either,” Jorrin said.

“I’m not going to die,” Avery put in.

“I feel the same way,” Braedon said, grinning.

Cera looked at each of them and then at her bondmate, who was wagging his tail. A small smile bloomed on her lips. In seconds, it became a grin that made his heart stutter.

“Now that we’re all decided on that, what else did you learn, lad?” Hadrian rubbed his hands together.

Avery continued to brief them as Cera stood.

“I’ll take first watch,” she said, squaring her shoulders and resheathing the magic sword at her waist.

Their eyes locked, and Jorrin discarded any ideas of going with her.

He didn’t need his powers to tell she needed to be alone.

Nodding, he kissed her knuckles before she slipped away, Trikser on her heels.

Jorrin caught Braedon’s much too-knowing smile. At least his father had had the tact not to remind her of the highly effective protection spell he and Hadrian had erected, in addition to the masking spell still around their perimeter. They would be more than fine for the night.

Old habits die hard, my son,
Braedon thought-sent.

One corner of Jorrin’s mouth shot up.

Avery quickly piped up that he would also take his turn at being on watch.

Braedon chuckled.

Staring in the direction she’d gone off to, Jorrin smiled to himself.

He’d take watch, too.

Anything to make her feel more secure.

Chapter Fifteen

“Jorrin?” Cera called, making sure to watch her step as she walked along the crumbling stone wall in the darkness.

It was late and true to his word, he was on watch.

She’d been unable to shut down her racing mind enough to sleep.

The new information haunted her.

Her aunt was unharmed, which was a relief, but worry for her uncle and grief for the dozen men of his personal guard were eating her alive.

I’m responsible.

Cera had known most of them. She tried not to remember their names or think of the times they’d guarded Avery, Kait, and her when they’d played outside the safety of Castle Lenore’s walls.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Jorrin admonished, hopping down to the ground. He’d been perched on the wall.

She gave the section a once over.

How had it been sturdy enough to hold his weight?

“I couldn’t sleep.” Cera flashed a smile and shrugged.

Jorrin returned her smile, opening his arms.

She moved in quickly and sighed as she leaned against him, closing her eyes. His heart beat against hers, grounding her.

He rubbed her back, and she sank into him, smiling when he tucked her head under his chin.

Trikser appeared around the corner of the wall, wuffing and running to her. His thoughts to her were a scold.

She pulled away from Jorrin and knelt, throwing her arms around her wolf. “Sorry, Trik. I didn’t mean to leave you behind.” Dropping a kiss on his furry head, she gave him a pat and straightened.