“Gryff is doing all right,” Annis said sullenly.
“Yes, he is, but it didn’t come easily to him. And he still chafes at the responsibility from time to time.”
“You just don’t want me to marry him because you don’t think he’s a suitable match. Well, Gryff wasn’t such a great match, either, until you made him a lord and awarded him several tracts of land in the North Country.”
Marri sipped her chocolate. “It was no more than he deserved. He saved my life and the lives of others more than once.”
“That’s not why you rewarded him.”
Annis was right, Marri admitted with a sigh. She had done it so she could marry Gryff. “Just promise me you won’t rush into anything. Or do anything foolish, like running off together. If you want to marry Killian, and he wants to marry you, then you have my blessing. For propriety’s sake, I ask that you wait at least six months. You’re a recent widow, after all. Since few outside of Brynn Castle know the full extent of Rajj’s treachery, to most it would appear unseemly for you to marry so quickly.”
Six months! It seemed a lifetime, but now that she thought about it, Annis knew Marri was right. Any court gossip directed at her behavior now might stain Corrie’s reputation in the future.
“The time will go fast,” Marri assured her.
Annis nodded dubiously.
“Remember who you are. Your wedding will be an occasion of state. We have much to do while you’re waiting, assuming Killian wants this marriage as much as you do. Announcements will have to be sent to heads of state. We’ll have to decide on a menu. We need to find a suitable position for Killian.”
Jumping to her feet, Annis threw her arms around Marri’s neck. “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You’re the best sister in the whole galaxy.”
“I’m glad you think so, but the man in question hasn’t yet asked for your hand.”
Chapter 18
For the second time in his life, Killian found himself standing before his Queen.
“I’ll come right to the point,” Marri said. “Annis is in love with you. I know she was married before but she’s still very young. I need to know how you feel about her before things go any further. Or too far, if you take my meaning.”
Killian felt a wave of heat climb up the back of his neck and stain his cheeks. “Your Majesty, I...”
“You may speak freely. Anything you say will remain between the two of us.”
Killian cleared his throat. “I love Annis with all my heart. I know nothing can ever come of my feelings for her, but I swear to you that I haven’t defiled her in any way. I would never...”
“You misunderstand me. Annis wishes to marry you.”
“Marriage?” Stunned, Killian blinked at her. “Annis wants to marry me?”
“You seem surprised.”
“That doesn’t begin to cover it,” he said.
:“Do you love my sister?”
“Yes, Majesty, more than my own life.”
“Do you wish to marry her?”
He nodded, unable to speak, unable to believe he was being offered something he had never, in a thousand lifetimes, thought possible.
“Then I’ll leave the rest to you.”
Killian bowed, then turned and left the room, a spring in his step Marri had never seen before.
Sitting back, she closed her eyes, remembering how desperately she had yearned to be Gryff’s wife. They had been through Hel and back before they could be together, but it had been worth every pain, every sacrifice. Sometimes the road to love was strewn with rocks and thorns, she mused with a wry smile, but when that love was real, it always seemed to find a way to turn the thorns into roses.
* * *
Mind reeling, Killian left the Great Hall. He had the Queen’s permission to marry Annis, something he would never have foreseen. Doubts crowded his mind as he made his way up the stairs to Annis’ chambers. She was of royal blood. He came from peasant stock. It had taken years of arduous effort to work his way into service in Brynn Castle, to prove he was good enough, strong enough, loyal enough to wear the King’s colors. But to be part of the royal family...he shook his head. It was a miracle.
He paused outside Annis’ door, hoping the Queen wasn’t playing some cruel trick on him and that Annis truly wished to be his wife. He took a deep breath, and then another, before knocking.
Killian took a step back as the door flew open and Annis launched herself into his arms.
“I’m glad to see you, too,” he murmured.
“Where have you been?”
“I had an audience with the Queen.”
“With Marri?” Feeling suddenly sick to her stomach, Annis wrapped her arms around her waist. Had Marri changed her mind about allowing her and Killian to wed? Was she sending him away? Had he come to tell her goodbye? “What did she want?”
“Nothing bad. Maybe we should go inside,” he suggested as one of the castle maids came up the stairs.
Annis nodded woodenly. If it wasn’t bad news, why did they have to go inside? She walked to the window and looked out, flinched when he shut the door.
“Annis?”
She turned slowly to face him, only to blink in astonishment when she saw he was down on one knee. When he held out his hand, she walked toward him, felt her insides quiver when his fingers closed over hers.
“I love you, Annis,” he declared. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
She tried to speak but her mouth was suddenly dry, her vision blurred by tears of joy. He loved her. She read the truth in the depths of his eyes. Honest brown eyes that would never deceive her. There was no dark magic in this man. None at all.
“Annis?”
“Of course I’ll marry you.”
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when he sprang to his feet, wrapped her in his arms, and twirled her around the floor.
Save for her daughter’s birth, it was the happiest moment of her life
* * *
Annis sighed as Killian kissed her cheek. Marri had been so wrong, she thought glumly. The time did not go by fast. True, there was much to do and every day was filled with wedding preparations of one kind or another, and still the hours seemed to crawl by. She felt as if she had been waiting for five years instead of five months. In a few weeks, Marri would announce their engagement, and they would wed the following month.
In the interim, by Marri’s degree, Killian had been given command of the Queen’s army. She had also granted him title to a grand estate located on a large parcel of verdant land adjacent to Brynn Castle. It was a lovely old place set among towering pines. Annis had visited there once, years ago, and fallen in love with the house, with its beautifully frescoed ceilings and stained glass windows.
Marri had forbidden Annis to be alone there with Killian until they were wed.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Killian murmured. “And there’s a beautiful woman at my side. What more could any man ask?”
Annis smiled up at him as they strolled hand-in-hand through the castle gardens. Killian was as different from Rajj as summer from winter. There was no guile in her beloved’s eyes, no deceit in his voice. She knew, with every fiber of her being, that he truly loved her, as she loved him.
She chafed at having to wait another two months to become his wife. Even though she understood Marri’s reasons for making them wait, the waiting grew harder with every passing day. What made it even worse was pretending to be in mourning for a husband she had never loved, a man who had kidnapped her daughter, then left Annis for dead in the bowels of the citadel.
But the worst part about not being Killian’s wife was being unable to share his nights. And his bed. Sometimes she thought she might go mad with wanting him.
“Annis?”
“I wish we could just run away and get married tonight.”
Drawing her into his arms, he said, “I know, sweeting. I know.” He kissed her again, his hand sliding up and down her back, pulling her clo
ser as he deepened the kiss.
She leaned into him, her body aching with need as she slid her hands under his shirt. She was sorely tempted to sneak him into her room, might have done so if the lights strung through the trees in the garden hadn’t started flickering.
Annis grinned inwardly, knowing it was Marri’s not-so-subtle way of telling them that it was time for Killian to go home.
He groaned softly, as reluctant as she to say good night. “Until tomorrow,” he murmured.
“Tomorrow,” she repeated wistfully.
One last kiss and he was out the garden gate.
Annis sighed as she returned to her chambers.
Two more months until they could go home together and be a family. It seemed like forever.
* * *
And, suddenly, the day of the wedding was upon her.
Annis woke with butterflies in her stomach and a smile on her face. By tonight, she would be Killian’s wife, free to hold him and touch him and love him as much and as often as she wished.
Annis was too nervous to eat, but her mother and Marri urged her to do so.
After a quick breakfast, the three of them went into Annis’ room to get ready for the ceremony, which would take place in the Winter Grove Chapel, which wasn’t a chapel at all, but an ancient church hewn from glistening marble and onyx.
Amerris held Corrie, patting the baby’s back as she watched her two daughters.
Annis sat in front of her dressing table while Marri brushed her hair until it snapped and crackled. “Up?” she asked. “Or down?”
“Down,” Annis said, smiling at her sister in the mirror. “Killian likes it that way, you know.”
Marri smiled back, a silent prayer of thanksgiving rising in her heart. Annis was home again, apparently none the worse for her ordeal at Rajj’s hands, and happier than Marri had ever seen her. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright with hope for the future.
Annis’ wedding gown was made of yards and yards of pale pink silk and lace that fell to the floor in graceful folds. The bodice was square, the skirt sprinkled with crystals that twinkled in the lamplight. Matching crystals adorned her hair. A silver locket, wedding gift from her betrothed, nestled in the hollow of her throat.
“You look positively radiant,” Marri said as she set the floor-length veil in place.
Annis beamed at her. “I feel beautiful. And oh, so lucky.”
“If you ask me,” Amerris said, “it’s Killian who’s lucky.” She placed Corrie in her crib, kissed her forehead, then turned and gave her youngest daughter a hug. “I wish you every happiness, child.”
“As do I,” Marri said, wrapping her arms around her mother and sister. “We all have much to be thankful for this day.”
There was a knock at the door and then Gryff poked his head in. “Hey, bride, are you ready yet?” he asked with a wicked grin. “The groom’s getting impatient.”
* * *
The beautiful old church adjacent to the castle was filled with people, most of whom Annis had never met. Heads of state, clerics, dignitaries visiting from other planets, and the like. All dressed in their best. All hoping their presence would be noted and remembered by the Queen against the time they might need a private audience, a favor, a pardon.
Moonlight peeked through the stained glass windows, casting rainbow shadows on the floor and the ancient walls. The soft glow of a hundred candles filled the room with a pale golden light. Bouquets of white flowers and green ferns adorned the altar, a white runner covered the center aisle.
Marri sat in the front pew, along with Amerris and Nardik, Quinn and Seleena.
But Annis had eyes only for Killian. Clad in a fine black jacket, crisp white shirt, black trousers and boots, he stood in front of the altar, hands clasped in front of him, looking every bit as nervous as she felt. His hair was slicked back, save for one wayward lock that fell across his brow.
Gryff walked her down the aisle, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and then solemnly placed her hand in Killian’s.
Annis’ heart skipped a beat as Killian’s fingers closed around hers. At his touch, her nerves dissolved like morning dew. She scarcely heard the words the priest said until he asked, “Do you, Killian, take this woman to be your lawful wife according to the rites and laws of Brynn Tor?”
She held her breath as she waited for Killian’s answer.
“I do.”
“And do you, Annis, take this man to be your lawful husband according to the rites and laws of Brynn Tor?”
“I do!”
“Then, by the authority granted to me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Butterflies took flight in Annis’ stomach as Killian drew her gently into his arms. “I will love you every day of my life for as long as I live,” he said fervently, and sealed his pledge with his first husbandly kiss.
Sitting in the front pew, Marri took Gryff’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “And just like the Queen and her handsome consort,” she murmured, wiping a tear from her eye, “they all lived happily ever after.”
Chapter 19
Quinn stood outside, letting the cool night air envelop him. Crickets and tree frogs serenaded the night. A faint breeze stirred the leaves of the trees. He had been vaguely troubled for the last few weeks, though he could not say why. But for this moment, as he gazed up at Brynn Tor’s twin moons, he felt utterly at peace. Seleena was waiting for him in their bed. Their son slept in his cradle, and all was right with the world.
Earlier, they had attended Annis’ wedding. The bride had been beautiful, the groom obviously ill-at-ease in the company of so many high-ranking men and women. Quinn didn’t know if it had been the press of so many bodies, the stink of so much cooked food, the scent of so much blood, or the beating of so many hearts, but it had filled with him a growing restlessness.
The dragon had sensed his agitation. Quinn had felt the whip of its tail. Seleena, bless the woman, had also been aware of his distress. Taking him aside, she had suggested they leave when the first toast to the happy couple was over.
He had felt better when they were back home, but now, he was again plagued by the same sense of unease that had never been far from his mind. He told himself he was imagining trouble where there was none.
His love for Seleena and his son grew stronger, deeper, every day.
Steffon was thriving, a happy, healthy child more given to laughter than tears.
There had been peace in the land for the last seven months. Save for Alexxa, they had vanquished all their enemies. Still, it troubled him that the witch had so easily given Nardik the slip back on Callidori. Even more troubling was the fact that she lived on Brynn Tor. Had she returned to her home in Ironntown? He told himself the witch would not be so foolish as to come back here looking for revenge, not when it meant contending with the dragon.
And yet, he had killed her sister, scattered Wyrick’s coven, threatened her life. People had sought vengeance for far less.
He lifted a hand to the tattoo on his shoulder, wondering, as he had in the past, exactly how powerful the dragon was. Sometimes he had the feeling that the creature was an actual, living, thinking being and not just some magical hologram capable of inflicting death and destruction.
Quinn? Seleena’s voice whispered in the back of his mind, soft and sexy and filled with promise. It grows late and my arms grow lonely without you.
A thought took him to her side.
“What troubles you?” she asked as he slid into bed beside her.
“Nothing for you to fret about, Red,” he assured her as he drew her into his embrace. Her body molded to his, a living flame in his arms, stirring his passion and his hunger. And his never-ending need for this woman and no other.
He moaned softly as she caressed him, her touch igniting his desire even as it soothed his hunger.
He rose over her, lost in the love he read in her eyes. His worries about the future would keep until tomorrow.
Tonight, he wanted only the warmth of
his woman’s body against his, her arms tight around him, her love enfolding him this night and every night for as long as he lived.
Epilogue
The dragon stirred when it was certain its host was asleep. It slithered down the vampire’s arm, growing in size and shape as its feet touched the floor.
The witch’s cat hissed and darted under the bed, then stared out at him through unblinking yellow eyes.
Amused by the furry little creature, the dragon left the house by the back door.
Outside, he rose to his full twelve-foot height. It felt good to stretch his legs and his wings. He lifted his head, breathing in the cool night air, drinking in the sights, and the smells born to him on the breeze. Lesser creatures scurried out of his path as he strolled through the gardens.
The dragon glanced back at the house. His host, the woman, and the child, all slept peacefully, unaware that he took on physical form every night in order to guard their home and their lives. Unaware of the danger heading this way. He could smell it, taste it on his tongue.
It tasted like death.
Taking to the skies, he soared over the sleeping village, ever alert to the slightest movement below, to any hint of danger.
When he was certain all was well, he returned to the yard. His charges slept on, ignorant of the fact that it hadn’t been a spell gone wrong that bound him to the man Quinn, and his family.
No, the dragon thought, folding his wings, it had been his own choice to accept Quinn as his master. Though the evil witch, Serepta, had conjured him from ink, the blood of a young dragon, and her own dark magic, she had also imbued with him with greater power than she realized.
It made him the master of his own fate, granted him the ability to decide who he would serve. And who he would destroy.
Someday, he would tell Quinn.
And it would change everything.
About Amanda Ashley
Amanda Ashley is one of those rare birds—a California native. She’s lived in Southern California her whole life and loves it. She married her high school sweetheart and they have three sons, all handsome enough to be cover models!