throat, squeezing slightly.
“You should have told me you like it
rough.” Vulcan’s voice sounded
murderous. Jaisyn began to pray.
What had she been thinking?
That
she’d come into his tent, kill him, and
sneak out? That without a leader, the
Morden
soldiers
would
leave
Lytheria? Yes, it had been something
like that. She must have been half-
mad to think her plan would work.
She had a better chance of killing him
in battle than she did right now.
Vulcan’s hands slipped down her
dress, caught the hem and pulled it up.
Jaisyn struggled, this time hitting at
him with her clenched fists. His other
arm tightened around her throat again
and feeling her air cut off, she stilled.
Oh sweet Lyria, she was going to be
raped by the one man that she hated
above all.
She felt rough fingers caress her
intimate area through the cloth barrier
and shrieked. If she didn’t do
something, she was going to be taken
on a pallet like a common whore.
“Is this the only way you can have a
woman?” she taunted, hoping he
didn’t strangle her. When moments
later she was still alive she continued,
“Is that it? You are so unappealing
that you have to rape women?”
***
Vulcan ignored her. She was a
whore who’d attempted to kill him.
She was lucky he was taking his
revenge this way and not plunging that
dagger through her heart. His fingers
caressed the thin shift and he roughly
pushed that to her waist as well.
***
Jaisyn
continued
her
struggle,
gasping in shock and horror as his
fingers brushed the curly hairs at the
apex of her thighs.
“Don’t—” she began, feeling tears
form in her eyes. This was not the
way she’d imagined her first time.
Well, she hadn’t imagined it at all, but
this certainly wouldn’t be the way that
she would. She tried to push his
fingers away.
Even with her hands shoving at his,
Vulcan’s fingers still played with her
soft, curly hairs. He lowered his head
to her breast once more, tugging the
hardened nipple into his mouth and
rolling his tongue around it until Jaisyn
wasn’t really sure what she wanted
him to do, get off or continue what he
was doing. And then she reminded
herself that it was Vulcan, and she
knew what she wanted.
She’d sucked in a deep breath and
was going to attempt to throw him off
of her once more when his fingers
moved to rub against the part of her
that had always piqued her curiosity.
Jaisyn had no idea why it was there,
yet it looked so at home in the folds of
her femininity. Even her governesses
and maids had blushed when she’d
asked about it, and had told her that it
just was. The first rub sent a jolt
through her body that had her bucking
under him, her entire body tensing
from having him pay particular
attention to tiny piece of flesh.
***
Vulcan felt the tremor that ran
through her body and smirked. Was
his captive actually enjoying this? If
not for the fact that she’d tried to kill
him, he might have taken her back to
Morden. From what he could see and
feel, she had a beautiful body, and
was responsive to his touch.
He pinched her button between his
fingers and felt her legs clench around
his thighs. Moving his fingers further
down, Vulcan circled tentatively about
the opening that he soon intended to
fill, before moving the pad of his
thumb back toward her sensitized
nub. When he pressed and circled, he
heard what sounded like a whimper,
and when he looked down, he noticed
that her eyes were closed and her
teeth gripped her lower lip.
Deciding he’d kept himself waiting
too long, Vulcan undid his breeches
and positioned the tip of his aching
erection against her soft opening.
***
Jaisyn’s eyes flew open. What was
that? That was definitely not a finger.
She was just about to put up what
would have been a futile struggle,
when a cry went up and the sound of
steel meeting steel rang in her ears.
In a flash, Vulcan was off of her,
tugging his breeches closed as he
grabbed for his broadsword. Then, as
if remembering she was still in his
tent, her breasts exposed, her dress
hiked up to her belly and her entire
lower body on display, Vulcan glared
down at her. “If you ever come after
me or any of my warriors again, I
will
continue where I left off and, after
I’ve had my fill and my men have
taken turns with you, I will personally
cut you into tiny pieces.”
And with that, he was gone. Shock
kept Jaisyn in the same position for
many minutes and when she finally
snapped out of it, she pushed her shift
and the dress down and wrapped the
black cloth about her hair once more.
She could do nothing about the ripped
bodice of her dress so she clasped her
hand to her throat, hoping that the
edges of the dress wouldn’t come
apart, and stood. She knelt once more
to search for her dagger, just in case
she had to use it, and slipped from the
tent.
Immediately, she noticed that some
of the Lytherian soldiers were
engaging those of Morden. Somehow,
they must have found out that she’d
left the castle and come searching for
her. Jaisyn tried her best to get their
attention, to tell them that she was
safe, but they were busy with the
Morden soldiers. She hurriedly slipped
into the forest behind the castle and
followed a secret path until she came
to the hidden entrance. As she
suspected, a few soldiers were
standing there.
Before they could say anything, she
spoke. “One of you has to go out and
bring our soldiers back. I am quite
safe now.”
“Liege,” one of the soldiers bowed
and immediately went about her
bidding. The rest of the soldiers stared
at her in concern until one voiced it,
“Were you hurt, my liege?”
Jaisyn shook her head and forced a
smile. “Thank you for the concern,
Ricktor, but it’ll take more than a
Morden barbarian to hurt me.”
Appeased by her answer, Ricktor
and the other soldiers nodded and
chuckled. A smile, weak though it
was, was all Jaisyn could manage.
Against her will, something different
had happened to her body. Something
that she’d never felt before. She
dreaded to think what would have
happened had she not been rescued
by her loyal soldiers but a small, a
very small, part of her still wondered
at it.
***
“That
is
the
only
logical
explanation,” Varian was saying to
Vulcan, who sat amongst his generals
and lieutenants in the morning air.
Lytheria was coldest, if this
cool
breeze could be described as such,
during this hour. “There must be a
secret passageway. They did not
lower the drawbridge but somehow a
Lytherian female entered your tent,
followed by the soldiers who engaged
us. And then, like ghosts, they
disappeared.”
Vulcan
nodded.
He
was
in
agreement. There had to be a secret
entrance. The only question was
where was it? And if there was a
secret entrance, this siege could go on
for weeks. No, they had to find it soon
and put an end to this.
“Now, I’ve walked around the castle
and almost every part is surrounded
by the moat except for the area
surrounded by the forest. I’ll take
some of the men into the forest with
me and see what I can find,” Varian
continued, looking to Vulcan for
approval. His brother nodded, his lips
set in a grim line as he thought of the
woman who’d struggled beneath him
last night.
“There will be soldiers at that
entrance,” a lieutenant called out.
Varian turned to him, the paleness
of his eyes darkening. “Of course
there will be soldiers. Perhaps two—
maybe four if that much. If I find the
entrance, I’ll enter with six of our
warriors two hours before dawn.
We’ll take out the soldiers at the
secret entrance, creep through the
castle, enter the inner bailey and
lower the drawbridge.”
“How will we find our way through
the castle?” one of the generals asked.
Varian answered with a dark smile,
“Someone will show us. Perhaps a
serving wench or a squire boy.”
The general nodded and they all
looked toward Vulcan, who gave his
approval. Within moments, all except
for Varian and Vulcan, disappeared to
carry out other tasks.
“Something is troubling you, my
brother?” Varian asked, staring at the
thoughtful expression on his brother’s
face.
Vulcan rubbed at the week’s growth
of beard on his face before saying,
“Why would the Lytherians risk
exposing a secret entrance to us?”
Varian thought of that for a few
moments before he shrugged. “I don’t
know. Maybe they wished to scare us
into running back to our heathen
Northlands.”
The king stared up at his brother for
a long moment before saying, “No.
They know we don’t scare that easily.
It was no attack either, not with only a
handful of men fighting on the
outskirts of our camp.”
Varian, picking up his brother’s
train of thought, furrowed his brows.
“You think it was a diversion?”
Vulcan didn’t answer. Instead, he
allowed his brain to go back to last
night. The woman beneath him had
definitely been a Lytherian and she’d
smelled clean, like budding flowers on
a sunny day. Most prostitutes could
not afford scented soaps, unless they
were the mistresses of royals or rich
men. But the woman under him had
not acted like a prostitute would in
that situation, submitting to him in
exchange for her life. In fact, she’d
acted the exact opposite—she’d acted
like a…a
virgin
! It was then that the
diversion had come, the one that had
interrupted what would have been a
very interesting encounter last night.
That made sense. The Lytherians
would create a diversion if one of their
royals—one
of
their
princesses
perhaps—was in trouble.
He came to his feet immediately, his
large bulk forcing Varian to step back
quickly. “What? What did you figure
out?”
A cynical smile twisted Vulcan’s lips
as he replied, “One of the princesses
paid me a visit last night.”
Varian looked dubious before his
eyes narrowed. He lifted a dark brow.
“Well, that would explain the suicide
mission.”
“Exactly.” Vulcan turned on his
heel. “Find that hidden passage,
Varian. I feel the need to be reunited
with the princess who tried to kill
me.”
***
Varian Anselm Mor’an was a
deadly contradiction. His thick head
of hair, various shades of blond,
brown, red, and black, that he’d
inherited from his mother, and
captivating blue eyes, coupled with his
flawless complexion made him one of
the most handsome in the land. His
looks however, along with the fact
that he enjoyed smiling much more
than his older brother, made him one
of the most underestimated opponents
on the battlefield. An inch or two
shorter than Vulcan, with a leaner
physique, Varian was a combination
of agility and intellect. He, more than