ReluctantConsort (5 page)

At that moment, Whar stepped to the entrance, the moisture
of the falling water tumbling over the cliffs beading his face as eyes as black
as a star-studded night swept over them quickly.

“We ride,” Whar growled. “Humans are riding this way and we
have not much time.”

Definitely no time to enjoy the caress of his Consortress’s
magick.

“Shadow Hell,” Daelan cursed, his entire body tight, tense
with a need unlike any he’d ever known even when her magick had touched them in
the Vale. The touch of her unconscious magick had his shaft harder than the
obsidian stone of the fortress and his body as sensitive as a babe’s.

He prayed as he never had before that somewhere within him
he could find the strength to hold back the hunger raging at him until they
reached safety. And for the first time in all his decades of war, he was
uncertain if that were possible.

As twins, he and Caedan had not known hungers this powerful
to sweep through them. As all magickal twins, they were wont to share their
women, even to take a single magickal female as a lover should they not be
opposed. But this hunger to share a woman, to mark with not just their body but
the magick surging inside them like a storm was near more than they could
believe. It was much stronger, much hotter than all the times they’d touched
her, prepared her in the Vale for their possession in the past.

And a Sorceress? A true Sorceress. This fierce little thing
whose pride had held back her tears, whose sense of belonging to her brother,
and wild, tempestuous magick within a hidden realm was like a call to the very
depths of what he had not realized was his and his brother’s lonely hearts for
such a radiant soul—this being of female heat and magick most beloved by the
One.

Holding to her tightly, he rushed to the huge, surefooted
horses they had called to them as they stepped from the mists the past eve. As
Caedan swung onto the first jet-black beast, Daelan relinquished his burden to
his brother, aware of Caedan’s indrawn breath as the magick pulsing beneath her
skin took him unaware.

There was no time to acknowledge it, nor to truly enjoy it,
for the sound of the humans’ mounts beating upon the path leading to the falls
could now clearly be heard.

Gripping the beast’s mane, Daelan swung himself onto the
animal’s back, gripping its powerful sides with his knees as he pushed his
leathered feet into the stirrups of the light saddle.

Without sound, the animals moved swiftly the short distance
to shallower waters before splashing across the wide stream to the forest on
the other side.

The Ogre warriors disappeared into the forest just as the
humans’ mounts were galloping to the banks beyond.

They had escaped, though how the king’s guards had known to
search first a place well removed from the fortress, he would know soon. There
was a traitor among the Ogre, they had known this for many years. How else
could the human hunters slip so easily, so quickly across the Causeway to steal
away with the magickal beings that had obviously been drawn to a place where
they could be taken?

Even the little goddess Muse was not exempt from treachery,
though knowledge of her origins was limited. Not but a fortnight past she too
had confronted human males intent on removing her from the Causeway to the
human stronghold of Alistair the Perverted.

She had escaped without showing her power only by chance.

As the horses tore through the forests, instinct guiding the
magick they possessed only when the Ogre rode them. They were as swift as the
once-plentiful Pegasus, and as surefooted as even the mountain werecats.

This day, Daelan and his brother both knew it was not just
their lives they owed to the beasts, but the life of their Sorceress as well.

* * * * *

As the mists of the Causeway enfolded them, the mounts were
brought to a stop, the warriors dismounting quickly and moving to the
four-legged, broad-muscular mounts of the Causeway, the Torc.

Torc, resembling the small-winged dragons or the enchanted
dragon form of the Sorceress protector Garren, though without the ability to
walk on two legs or speak with disrespectful mockery. For that, the Ogre
thanked the One.

The Torc were large, with blocky bodies, carnivorous
appetites for human flesh and excellent hearing and eyesight. They were the
perfect creatures for moving quickly through the Causeway.

The little prince who had arrived begging for his sister’s
life was shadow-damned lucky he had not been found by the Torc before the Ogre
sensed him.

Transporting the sorceress to the Taithleach fortress though
would be a bit tricky, especially for Caedan, the only warrior of the group
whose Torc had been trained to allow a female upon his back. He was so trained
by Muse, giving Caedan to wonder once again why she had chosen his mount.

Torc, like the wizard snow owls, bonded with their riders,
which made it near impossible for other Ogre warriors to ride them.

And Torc rarely sensed females in the mists and had no trust
toward them. That quirk had made it incredibly difficult for Muse to train the
creature. It ensured now that the Torc accepted Arabella easily.

With her slender legs now straddling his thighs, her breasts
pressed against his chest, she was a treasured weight.

A torturous pleasure.

“Brother.” Daelan’s low tone drew his immediate attention
for it was heavy with warning.

“Daelan?” he questioned his twin.

“Should you close your senses to me while carrying her so,
for even a moment—take even the briefest second of shared sensation that I may
feel from her riding atop your cock and I promise you I’ll feed you to the
dracas outside the fortress myself. Do we understand one another?”

And Daelan was in no joking frame of mind.

Caedan maintained his blank expression but amusement
threatened at the corners of his lips as he gave a short nod.

“Understood,” he assured his brother.

Accepting the rest of the slight weight of the petite
princess as Daelan arranged her thighs over his, Caedan swore he would lose his
seed to his breeches immediately.

“Sweet mercy,” Daelan rasped as Caedan felt the soft heat of
Arabella’s mound settle across his hardened flesh.

“Aye, brother,” Caedan breathed out, his voice rough as his
twin stepped back slowly.

“Ride easy,” Daelan bit out, his voice guttural as Caedan
buried his fingers into the long curls trailing down her back.

Silken.

Daelan could sense the feel of her hair against his own palm
as the twin bond kicked in more strongly than ever before, Caedan knew.

Caedan blew out a hard breath and closed his eyes briefly.
He assured himself he would indeed survive this venture into the magickal
alignment that would ensure the bond of warriors to a Sorceress they had never
imagined could be theirs.

Such pleasure.

Arabella wanted to lift to it, to ride the peaking
sensations heating between her thighs and torturing her mound with such exquisite
sensations.

The hard heat of her warrior’s leather-covered erection was
making her crazed. Especially after her father’s mistresses had torn the curls
of her mound free with the heated wax they’d poured upon it days before.

Her thighs clenched on the powerful breadth of his, her
nails biting into the woven shirt covering his back.

Caedan. She knew his name.

Just as she knew his brother’s, Daelan.

They were the lovers she’d met in the enchanted garden of
the Causeway. The ones she had so grieved of losing when she’d left them last.

“Ease me,” she whispered as her magick gathered, writhing
beneath her flesh as she fought to release it.

“Soon, little heart.” His voice was rough, controlled. “Too
many warriors surround us now.”

“They can turn away.” Her thighs clenched again, found
strength, then slowly rode the thick ridge torturing her sensitive flesh.

Such pleasure. It bloomed and burned within her as the
prickling heat of magick built with such wondrous power that it should have
frightened her. Always she had feared the magic growing inside her, knowing
that should it be detected her life would be forfeit.

Here, in this dark, desolate place, it was only growing
though. Held against one of the warriors she had grieved of never seeing again,
she could feel those twisting bands of power reaching out to both of them. Not
just the one who held her, whose hardened shaft she rode with such pleasure.

“Sweet princess,” he groaned, his lips caressing her neck as
his breath came hard, panting from his chest. “I cannot allow you to find your
release yet, love. Not here, not as we did within the Vale.”

She was so close. How could he stop her from that pleasure?
How could he refuse the bands of sensation tightening between her thighs from
releasing?

Yet she hadn’t found release, she reminded herself, no
matter how desperately she reached for it. No matter her need for it.

Lifting her lashes to stare at the warrior holding her, she
was shocked by the sight of the luminous threads of magick weaving around her,
touching her, stroking her, mixing with the strands of her own violet-hued
magick. Magick that had never wafted from her in such a way.

It twined with their magick, stroked over it, stroked over
the warrior holding her as well as the brother she considered the darker of the
two, the one whose magick called to her on a level that went beyond her spirit.

“I ache for you, warrior,” she whispered. “For both of you.
We near the Vale, I feel it within my spirit, calling to us, tempting us.”

“Aye, it tempts,” he whispered as a moan slipped from her
lips, the feel of potent magick easing deeper in her rear, sliding free and
returning. Burning pleasure-pain she craved, that sent shivers racing over her
flesh. “But to take you now would cause you harm, sweet. We will never cause
you harm.”

Harm? It was harming her to wait.

Gripping his thighs with hers, she rode the hard ridge
beneath her, the heavy erection hot and throbbing, driving her mad with the
need to feel it inside her as she felt the warrior’s magick taking her.

She moved against him, their touches, caresses driving her
to the heights of pleasure yet never allowing her to fall over, never allowing
her to find the release for which her need was only growing. The need burned.
It rose inside her like an inferno she could neither avoid nor ease. The agony
of it was unlike any she had ever known.

This must end,
Caedan groaned across the link he
shared with his brother. “
I do not know if I can hold back my release much
longer.”

Their magick was a spiraling haze of color and power that
the other Ogre were careful to keep their distance from. The depth of it, the
strength of it a barrier that only the greatest of magicks would be able to
penetrate.

We near the Obsidian Fortress
, Daelan assured him
then.
We are but moments from haven, brother.

Moments? Could he last moments?

Daelan could feel his brother’s pain as though it were his
own. Ogre twin bonds were more sensitive than any other, save for Wizard Twins,
for the very fact that rarely were twins born to the warrior sect. Only in past
generations had twins been born to the Ogre sect since the separation of
Sorceresses and Wizards.

The Ogre had protected the Causeway since the dawn of human
and magick separation, their power to blend in with either sect their greatest
defense. They could slip into magick lands and track any human who may have
made it past the Causeway, or slip into human lands and trick those there to
rescue the magickal beings taken from their lands.

Their magick was hidden from even the greatest powers of the
lands unless they wished it to be seen. Once slipping into human lands, no
magick existed within them until their return to the Causeway. Their strength
and ability to deflect blows was their greatest power there.

Here within the Causeway they were more powerful than any
but the gods the One had selected to watch over Sentmar as he slept.

We are here!
Daelan felt relief pour over him as the
Obsidian Fortress rose before them. Unscalable walls of magick-infused obsidian
surrounded the main fortress. None but Ogre magick could pass through it, and
for those assigned to rule the land, the magick of the stone would conform to
their demands. Whether in creating a chair, a bed or warding off an attack. The
Obsidian stone was tied directly to the Guardian or in the case of this rule,
the Guardians of Obsidian—the darker magicks.

The stone portal slid open as the Torcs stopped before them,
the shadowed opening parting for the warriors.

Daelan slid quickly from his mount and moved to his brother,
the warrior nearly lost in the pleasure wrapping around him in the form of the
princess’s magick.

Gripping her hips, he eased her into his arms, near gasping
at the pleasure, increasing a hundredfold from what it had been without contact
with her flesh. How in the name of the One had Caedan born such pleasure
without finding his release?

“Warrior.” Muse stepped into their path as they entered the
Great Hall, intent on bearing their Consortress to their quarters where they
could touch her freely, together.

“Guardian,” Daelan gritted out. “Allow us leave to pass
quickly.”

Her smile was somber, filled with regret as she lifted her
arm and gestured to the heavily robed maidens who gathered often to do her
bidding.

“My handmaidens will take her for but a moment, warriors.
Preparations for her Joining must be made.”

“What say you!” Caelan growled, obviously surprising the
demi-goddess. “She was born of human lands, not magick. Sorceress she may be,
but without the defenses one of magick lands would have provided her woman’s
spirit.”