Chapter 25
Hands trembling, body slick from Vorik’s incredible ministrations, Syla barely got her robe fully closed before footsteps thundered across the landing.
She flung her legs to the side of the bed, thinking to sit up and look alert—not like she’d just experienced the most intense orgasm of her life—but the mattress didn’t have a lot of support and she slid off the edge and onto the floor.
At that moment, the door banged open and four guards charged inside.
“Your Highness,” one blurted, as if he hadn’t expected to find her in their prisoner’s room. “Er, are you all right?”
“What did he do to you?” another guard roared. Flaron. His hair was mussed and his uniform askew, so he’d probably been off-duty.
“He went that way.” Syla pointed toward the window.
Since they would have spotted the broken bar anyway, it didn’t feel like a betrayal.
And she needed them to go away. She needed a moment to gather herself lest any of them think…
Storm god’s wrath, she didn’t know what they would think.
She’d cried out numerous times and had been so lost in her pleasure that she hadn’t thought of the guards, hadn’t thought of anyone.
Had the man stationed on the landing outside fallen asleep?
He must have. And maybe the rain had smothered some of the noise.
Even so, she feared someone would figure out what had happened.
“The roof!” one guard yelled out the window. “Surround the temple. He’s on the roof!”
The men charged out of the room, thankfully leaving her alone. Syla pushed herself to her feet and drank water from the jug, then looked around for a cloth so she could wash herself and get her scattered thoughts in order.
By now, she believed Vorik wily enough—and gifted enough with incredible athletic abilities—to escape the guards, but as shouts rang out and a cannon boomed, she went to the window with concern.
Day had come, but the clouds were so dense, the rain so heavy, that it still seemed like night.
In the damp air of the courtyard, not a single lantern burned.
That was better for Vorik. He would escape more easily in the dark and rain. Among his powers, he could probably see in the dark. Dragons, she knew, could. And Vorik was…
She didn’t know what he was.
“An enemy,” she whispered, afraid that was the truth, no matter how often he saved her, no matter what pleasure he’d given her in bed.
A tendril of warmth flushed her body at the memory, combatting the chill from the wind and rain outside the window.
His parting words came to her: I’ll find you later, and I’ll have you.
His voice and his lust-filled eyes had made her body thrum with desire all over again, and she wanted nothing more than to see him once more.
She caught herself peering all around the temple, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
She didn’t until she looked toward the cliff and the sea, wondering if his dragon remained out there in the rain. That was when she spotted a shadow, someone who’d run along the rocky escarpment and away from the temple. Vorik.
He crouched, about to slither over the edge of the cliff, but he hesitated. Though he was nothing but a dark distant shadow in the gloom, she could tell when he paused, turning to look at her, to meet her eyes through the rain.
Through some instincts, some magical power, he’d known she was looking at him.
His promise to have her came to mind again.
She had to finish her mission and protect the kingdom, and it would be far better if she never saw him again, but she couldn’t help but long for another night with him. A full and uninterrupted night.
Vorik lifted a hand in parting, and she raised hers in return before he disappeared over the edge of the cliff.
To climb down? A hundred feet and more? Maybe he intended to swim out a mile and reunite with Agrevlari. The healer in her wanted to admonish him for contemplating such a feat before he recovered fully from his wounds, but he seemed so much greater than a mere mortal. Maybe it didn’t matter.
The door opened again, and Syla spun in alarm, lowering her arm and trying not to feel like she’d been caught breaking a rule.
It wasn’t a guard but Sergeant Fel who strode in.
“Your Highness,” he said in relief, looking her up and down. “Are you all right? When I didn’t find you in your room…” He looked toward the bed, a crinkle furrowing his brow.
“Yes. I stitched and bandaged Captain Vorik’s many wounds.” Syla didn’t want to be questioned about why that had taken all night and groped for a way to explain herself. “He wouldn’t let me use magic,” was what came out.
It was, after all, true.
Fel grunted. “I’m still regretting that I wasn’t conscious enough to make that demand.”
Syla winced, feeling guilty again that she’d inadvertently bound Fel.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant. I didn’t mean…” She slumped against the wall; her guilt wasn’t without reason.
“I knew you felt more obligated than your duty would have otherwise demanded, and I asked you to carry Vorik anyway. I didn’t feel I had a choice since you and Aunt Tibby weren’t going to bring him, but… it was wrong of me to do that.”
Fel sighed and met her gaze. “You’re the princess, maybe my monarch now, once everything gets settled. I would feel obligated to obey your wishes, regardless.”
Syla shook her head, doubting that, if magic hadn’t been involved, Fel would have toted Vorik all those miles.
“I just like to voice my disgruntlement when things don’t go well,” he added, managing a wry smile. “More than I should.”
“We all have plenty of reason to be disgruntled right now.” New guilt crept into her. For a time, she’d forgotten all her woes—and the horrors that had occurred—and reveled in her own personal pleasure. “I don’t blame you for it in the least.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. Now, if you’ve enough clothes for the road…
” Fel waved at her bare feet. “I need to usher you out of here while the temple staff are distracted. I already rounded up your aunt and horses and a carriage, though she thinks we’ll have to head up to the volcano and abandon anything with wheels. ”
“I… You want to leave right now? To find, uhm.” Not certain if more guards were out there, Syla didn’t finish, only waving vaguely toward the distant volcano.
Aunt Tibby might not have known the exact location of the shielder, but she was right. That was the correct direction to go.
“Yes. Huzloron spoke to me only a few minutes before the enforcers arrived. His intention is to send you back with them once they capture Vorik. To go to the capital and speak with the island lord. Huzloron wanted to make sure I wouldn’t object.”
“Why would he think you would object?” Syla asked, though she intended to find the shielder before visiting Lord Ravoran, a distant relative of her mother’s who governed over Harvest Island, reporting to her and enforcing kingdom law here.
Given her plans, Syla didn’t know if it was wise to visit him at all.
“I overheard him speaking to the other leader. Jemla, right? I gathered that at your meeting you didn’t tell them you planned to take their shielder, but they were pretty certain before we ever showed up that someone from Castle Island would come, intending to do so.
And then, when you arrived… Let’s just say that they might not act openly against you, but they want to impede your quest.”
Syla bent forward and gripped her knees. “It’s horrible to take it, isn’t it? But we have to, Fel.”
“My mother lives in Promontory Peak on the south side of Castle Island. I’ve got cousins over there too.
And the woman who was… until she grew tired of me…
my wife. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you return a sky shielder to Castle Island.
You’re not wrong to make that choice, Your Highness.
The greater population is there. If we have to, we can evacuate Harvest Island. ”
Yes. Syla had forgotten that was an option. Reminded, she brightened and stood straighter. “That would be hard but doable. We’d probably lose the crops but people’s lives are more important.”
Fel nodded. “There’s room on Castle Island for more, at least for a time. But we have to get a working shielder back over there first. Come. Your aunt is waiting outside in the rain. She, too, knows the importance of this quest. But we have to hurry. Before the temple people realize we’re leaving.”
“Let me grab my pack out of my room, and then I’ll be ready.”
Syla started after him but paused to grab two stout Candles of Serenity, thinking they might come in useful along the way. Especially if her own people wanted to throw her in a carriage and imprison her.
With a last look at the bed, she walked out after Fel.
She vowed to set aside thoughts of Vorik and the time they’d spent together, other than to silently thank him for providing a distraction so that she could get away from the temple.
She might be the rightful heir to the throne, but right now…
she couldn’t help feeling like a criminal.
But Fel was right. This was the logical choice.
And the sooner they succeeded, the sooner she could protect the kingdom as a whole.