Sabine Read online

  It was habit now to stand as he changed, to be on two feet and ready to charge into battle. A mistake, since it meant she knelt before him, her blonde hair streaming down her back and her face tilted up. Desperate fantasy stirred, an image of golden locks wrapped around his fists as her sweet little tongue lapped at his cock, all eagerness and arousal he could scent in the air.

  Maybe his leathers hid his fierce hunger. Perhaps it didn’t matter, when he couldn’t keep it out of his rasping voice. “Why do you wish to stay in the forest?”

  She lowered her eyes, though not before her gaze hesitated on the front of his pants. Her pale throat worked as she swallowed. “Still trying to protect you, I suppose. Silly, isn’t it? A woman like me, trying to shield the High Lord.”

  Not silly at all, when she held his heart in her slender hands. “Protect me from what?” he asked gently. “Nothing in that town holds any danger for me.”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she stretched out her hand only to quickly pull it away. “Take me to the inn, please, and we will see.”

  He wanted to help her to her feet. Offer her his arm. Sheer torture to do neither, but he didn’t question his self-control when her heart was at stake. “It’s only a short walk,” he promised, then stepped into the clearing.

  Sabine followed him silently, keeping behind him but not far. She didn’t speak, not even when he opened the inn door and ushered her inside.

  A dark-haired woman with a sweet face waved them to a table in the corner. “Good evenin’. Fancy a drink or some supper?”

  Perhaps they could escape to a private room without being recognized. “A room—a suite, if you have it—and dinner in private.” He unhooked his pouch from his belt and drew out a heavy gold coin, a dozen times the worth of the finest room and ten meals.

  The barmaid’s eyes went wide. “We have but one room that would suit. There’s stew in the pot, but I’m bettin’ we could find something else in the larder, if you prefer.”

  “Is Nadia still in charge of the kitchens?” At the girl’s hasty nod, he smiled. “Tell her that her tall friend from the north is here and needs dinner for two. Her best, and as much of it as she has to spare.”

  “Dinner for two, you and the lady.” The woman beamed and turned for the kitchens.

  Sabine stood beside him, fidgeting with the lace cuff on her dress. “Did you travel this way often before the war?”

  He didn’t wait to be led to the suite. He knew where it was, and he was the High Lord. “From time to time. Nadia is the best cook in a hundred leagues.”

  Sabine smiled, a tiny curving of her full lips. “Better than Henkel?”

  His sudden, deep laughter startled him. How long had it been since he’d laughed freely? “I should think it a testament to my regard for you that I suffered through five courses of that meal.”

  “Honestly? I half wish you had demanded we leave in a fit of royal pique.”

  “The next time someone puts charred duck and barely cooked bread in front of us, I will most certainly do so.”

  She laughed at that, a sound he remembered all too well. “I would be eternally grateful.”

  The innkeeper puffed up the stairs behind them, red faced and out of breath. “My Lo—I mean, good sir.” His face turned redder, making Ciar intensely grateful that the poor man had no need to make deception a daily habit. “The suite is at your disposal, you and the lady. May I show you the way?”

  “You may,” he allowed, stepping aside to give Sabine room to back up without brushing against him. “Thank you for your discretion. My lady and I wish to enjoy an undisturbed dinner and evening alone.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” He panted as he pulled a ring of keys from his belt and led them down the hall. “Nadia has started your meal, as requested. Would you like anything in the meantime?”

  “No, thank you.” Ciar waited until the man opened the door and gestured Sabine inside, then pressed another coin into his hand. “For your understanding,” he murmured.

  He inclined his head as he backed away. “You’re too generous, sir.”

  When the innkeeper had gone, Sabine wrapped her arm around one of the bed’s four posters and smiled ruefully. “He probably thinks I’m another man’s wife, you know.”

  “Perhaps.” Ciar closed the door and turned the giant brass key for good measure. If Nadia arrived and found the door locked, she would leave the food, knowing better than to disturb him. “Were it mine to choose, you’d be naked already.”

  Her breath hitched. “You are the High Lord, leader of all the wolves. I imagine everything is yours to choose.”

  “Is it?” Oh, what a dangerous game he played—but what could brand her in his memory more fully than the sight of her lost in ecstasy? “You never bent to me unless it pleased you, sweet Sabine. And you never let me forget the power you could wield from your knees.”

  She toyed with the end of one blonde curl. “Was that what enchanted you, Ciar? That I never gave a damn about your birthright? That I only wanted you?”

  Enchanted him, bewitched him. “It’s a heady thing for a lord, to be craved as a man.”

  “Yes, I craved you.” Her fingers trailed from her hair to the laces of her bodice. “I dreamt of you. Your hands on my body.”

  He couldn’t have the triumphant homecoming he’d dreamed of, but he could have her. He backed up, dropped onto a padded chair and reached for the laces on his left boot. “Show me,” he commanded. Not the High Lord to a subject—a man to a woman. A strong wolf to his mate.

  “You will not touch me?” She seemed torn between relief and disappointment.

  “You will touch yourself at my command. Your hands, my will.” He smiled at her as he tugged his boot free, a wicked smile with a feral edge she would recognize. He had taken her so many ways, and this was just one more. A game to be played, until the pleasure made the rules irrelevant. “Unlace your bodice, my love.”

  She swayed as if weak-kneed, though it took her only a moment to steady herself. “Say it again,” she whispered as she unknotted the lace.

  “My love.” He traced her features, studied the sweep of her pale brows and her high cheekbones, how color flooded her cheeks when he watched her. It was impossible to believe that magic could erase this beloved face from his memory when the years and endless bloody battles had not.

  Her bodice loosened, and she let the dress billow to the floor before reaching down to gather her gauzy shift in both hands. “I remember your smiles,” she whispered. “The way you held me. Even the way you would stroke your thumb over the back of my neck as you rested your hand on my shoulder. Everything. And you’re beautiful.”

  She kicked off her slippers, stripped the shift over her head and stood there, naked and waiting.

  Three years had changed so much and yet nothing. She was still gorgeous, lush and desirable. But her curves were more pronounced now, her hips more rounded, her breasts fuller. He ached to touch, to trace his fingertips over every inch of her. To taste her. To possess her.

  Instead he stripped off his other boot and reached for the fastening on his leathers. “I’m not as beautiful as you are. No one could be.”

  Her gaze lingered on him, a caress that she echoed by skimming one hand lightly over her own skin. “I don’t believe you. You’re…Ciar.”

  “Only with you.” His sturdy vest hit the floor, and he nearly snapped the ties on his shirt in his haste to pull it over his head. “Kneel on the bed. Facing me.”

  She did, moving gracefully. When she knelt, her knees parted wide, he could see the wet glisten of arousal. He remembered how it felt to slide deep into her cunt, to have her hot and tight around him.

  His cock strained against his pants as he reached for his belt. “Lick your fingers.”

  Sabine touched her mouth, and her tongue snuck out to slick over her fingertips. “Can I see you?”

  “Soon.” Not too soon, though. He slowed his movements. “I would take your nipple between my lips. Tease you un
til your back arched, then use my teeth.”

  She held his gaze and caught her nipple between her fingers. “How hard would you bite me?”

  “Until you whimpered, and I knew it was close to too much.”

  She twisted the hard peak and moaned. “Never too much, Ciar. Never enough.”

  He dropped his belt and reached for his pants. “Now the other one.”

  Her back arched as she squeezed her other breast. “You don’t even need to touch me, do you?”

  Oh, he needed to touch her. Needed it more than his next breath—but he’d never pain her with that knowledge, wouldn’t break the spell and make tonight not enough. “Do you want to see how hard I’ve grown from watching you?”

  She shook, her hunger painted plainly on her features, and one hand dropped to her thigh. “Please, Ciar. Show me your desire.”

  He stripped off his pants and stood before her, naked and aroused. On display, and unaccustomed nervousness stirred. The years had changed him, too, and there was always the chance she could look on him now and find him lacking.

  Sabine studied him, not even breathing. Finally, she exhaled a shaky sigh. “You’ve saved me. No matter what happens now, you’ve already saved me, love.”

  “I will save you.” He allowed himself two steps forward. Just two, so he could stand at the foot of the bed, close enough to pretend their scents were entwined. “This is only a reminder. When the spell is broken, I want you shaking at the thought of how many ways I’ll take you.”

  She nodded slowly. “A reminder.”

  “Yes. Of how good we can be.” His cock ached, so he wrapped his hand around it without looking away from her. His own touch was nothing—he’d had more of it than he cared to think of. It was her gaze on him, the way she watched him, that made pleasure tingle at the base of his spine. “Lie on your back.”

  Her eyelids fluttered as she obeyed, but when she lay before him, her thighs spread, she kept her gaze on him. “Yes?”

  “Yes.” He wanted to bury his face between her legs, lick her cunt until she screamed for him. He curled his free hand around the bedpost so he would not reach for her. “Touch yourself. One finger only.”

  There was that smile again, wicked this time as she trailed her fingertip up the inside of her thigh. “Where?”

  Arousal grew into a painful throb. “Open yourself for me. Let me see that sweet little pearl before you touch it.”

  Sabine fidgeted on the bed, but her voice was a tease. “How am I to do that with only one finger?”

  His low growl would have sent brave men running in fear. “Sabine.”

  “Ciar,” she chided. “I am not one of your soldiers.” As she spoke, she slipped her fingers through blonde curls and lower, revealing the tiny bud he longed to feel beneath his tongue. “I am your lover.”

  “Sometimes you obey my commands,” he whispered. “When it pleases us both, you’re quick enough to show your throat and bend to my will.”

  “Like I said…” She dipped her finger inside her body, made it wet and silky before circling the sensitive flesh he’d ordered her to touch. “I am your lover.”

  She was his lover, and more. He knew that—his heart swore to it, but his analytical mind could already see the blurry edges. Pieces missing, like an inexorable tide carrying his memories out to sea a grain at a time.

  That gave him the strength not to touch her. Instead he stroked his cock, too slow and gentle to give relief. “Not so much longer. Then you will have my tongue where your fingers are. My lips. I remember how sweet you scream when you come under my mouth.”

  “I remember, yes.” She trembled, touching herself as she watched his hand. “I could taste myself on your tongue.”

  “And then you would taste me.” His fingers tightened, and he groaned. “You always did like to tease me. Thrust your fingers deep into your cunt. I would see your ecstasy.”

  She obeyed with a soft moan, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she rocked against her palm, two fingers nestled inside her body.

  If he didn’t stop stroking himself, he would come before she did, but he couldn’t force his hand to still. His callused fingers dragged over his length in the same rhythm as her hand. “Faster, Sabine. Make yourself come.”

  “This is a dream.” She fucked her fingers deeper, her eyes glazing with pleasure. “This is all a—” A hoarse cry swallowed the words as she flushed and shuddered, writhing on the coverlet. His name escaped her on a whisper as she rode her release, a soft exhalation full of possession and pleading.

  Ciar couldn’t stop his growl, or the rush of instinctive pleasure. The wolf was past ready to claim his woman, to mate her once and for all. Bind her to them with sex and magic, make her what she should have been all along—theirs.

  Soon, he promised himself as he watched her twist on the bed. Soon.

  Then he gave in to the needs of his body and gripped his shaft hard, jerking his hand over it with practiced speed until the sight of Sabine with her slick fingers inside her pushed him over the edge.

  Panting and disheveled, she watched him with yearning. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

  Ciar needed his grip on the bedpost to keep his feet. “You’ll be free to look on me every day for the rest of your life.”

  Sabine rolled to her side and brushed her hair from her face. “Now I’m sleepy, and we’ve not yet eaten.”

  “Then rest. I’ll wake you when the food arrives.”

  She blinked several times. “Ciar?”

  “Yes?”

  Impending slumber thickened her voice. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

  His heart ached. “Now you won’t have to. I intend to mate you, Sabine. You’ll be mine. I’ll be yours. Soon, I promise.”

  Chapter Three

  Sabine woke to the sound of the door closing and the rich scent of roasted fowl. She sat up on the bed, her nakedness forgotten.

  Until Ciar looked at her.

  She slid from the bed and retrieved her shift with a blush. “How long did I sleep?”

  “Not long.” He wore his pants and nothing else as he brought the heavy tray to the table set in the corner of their room. “You were very tired.”

  She couldn’t tear her gaze from his bare chest. “You must be exhausted too.”

  He smiled. “This is more luxury than I’ve been accustomed to.”

  That was especially true for her, and it had helped her create an illusion, a fantasy. For a little while, she’d let herself believe that everything was normal now. Exactly the way it used to be.

  “Don’t look so sad, love.” Ciar pulled back a chair and waved to it, a sweeping, gallant gesture. “Eat. We have a long way to run tomorrow.”

  Sabine obeyed in silence, slipping onto the chair. The food looked and smelled delicious, but her appetite couldn’t compete with her worry.

  Every moment she spent with Ciar, it became easier to convince herself this was different. He was different. And if he woke the next morning with no recollection of how he’d come to be there—or even who she was—it would hurt a thousand times worse than it would have the day before.

  “Sabine.” He settled in his chair, then met her gaze squarely. “I’ll not lie to you. I can feel the magic of the spell. And that’s good, is it not? Stealing memories a bit at a time is better than losing them all at once, and it will give us time to find a solution.”

  The depth of the grief that seized her was surprising. “You’re forgetting.”

  “Slowly,” he said, voice firm. “But I’m making new memories too. I won’t forget all of you. I’ll never forget all of you.”

  Some things shouldn’t be slow. A quick end was preferable, one slash of the executioner’s blade instead of being left to bleed and linger. “Of course.”

  The growl that tore free of him sounded frustrated. “Why do you have no faith in me?”

  “It isn’t—” Three years, and she didn’t know how to talk to anyone anymore, even Ciar. “You ha
ve a strong spirit, and I know you loved me. If anyone can wade through this spell, this curse, it’s you.”

  “I can, and I will. Believe in me.” He smiled suddenly. “I made an alliance with the cats. Lions and wolves fought a war together and won. I can do the impossible.”

  Her hand shook as she reached for her wine. It wasn’t a matter of trust, or even Ciar’s will, and yet she had no choice but to open herself to the possibility. If she refused, if she shut him out, she might be able to protect herself. But to what end? A miserable, lonely life?

  “I trust you,” she whispered finally. The truth, though they barely knew each other anymore. War had certainly changed him, and her situation had changed her.

  He still knew her well enough to read her thoughts in her eyes. “This is just a trial. Once we’re past it, we’ll have all the time in the world to learn each other again.”

  All the time in the world, but her greatest fear lingered—that no magic in the world could change what was done, and he was doomed to forget her no matter what they did.

  The sun had already sunk low in the west, but the heat of the day lingered. Sabine panted and stopped beside a fallen tree, bracing her paws on the rotting wood. “Can we camp here?”

  Ciar stopped a few paces away, a tall, powerful wolf with fur the same sandy color as his untamed hair. He lifted his head and sniffed the wind, then turned once. “A little farther. There’s a cabin over this hill, one we have tended so court officials will have a place to sleep on long journeys.”

  Not as fancy as their lodgings the night before, but at least they’d probably be alone. The stress of staying at the inn had been something she’d tried to hide from Ciar, though she was sure he’d noticed her reaction as they departed. The innkeeper had acted puzzled, as though he’d never seen her, and Sabine had all but fled.

  “Very well.” She followed him over the rise and was relieved to see the cabin was small, and no smoke rose from the chimney.

  “Just the two of us,” he promised. “A quiet night.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Ciar. I’m fine.” Then, before he could contradict her, she ran toward the cabin.