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"Oh," Morrigan panicked. His discomfort left to see his wife’s obvious panic as she squeezed her eyes shut and hit furiously at the emerald on her hand.

Suddenly, Zoran and Yusef began to laugh vigorously.

Wryly, Ualan stated, "I had no idea I looked that good from behind."

He was rewarded with punches from his laughing brothers.

Morrigan nearly threw up all over herself in horror. Olena and Pia exchanged amused looks, biting back their laughter in front of their husbands.

"Here," Morrigan said, getting back to business as she swallowed her mortification. A screen of the festival came up. "I can’t play sound, but you should see the picture moving like a silent movie."

They watched in silence. Then suddenly, Pia pointed and said, "There, stop, that’s him."

Morrigan froze the picture with a tap of the emerald. She couldn’t see what they were pointing at.

"Yeah," said Olena, leaning forward to get a closer look at the corner. "I remember him. Now that you mention it, he was rather strange."

"He has the coloring of a Var," said Yusef.

"But not the scent of one," said Zoran. "Do you think he has found a way to mask his smell?"

"He wears the tunic of the kitchen staff," said Yusef. "We will find him and question him. If he is Draig, it will be easy for him to prove it. If he is Var, he will come up with an excuse not to shift."

Ualan nodded. Yusef and Zoran left with their women by their sides.

Morrigan shut off the camera and eased it out of her eye. Seeing Ualan’s extended hand, she gave the ring and eyepiece back to him.

"Ualan," she began, weakly.

"I’ll be back in a moment," he answered, turning from her. Morrigan paled horribly, watching his broad shoulders as he walked away. He was livid. When he came back, the camera was gone. She wondered where he put it and didn’t really care, except for the fact she wanted to erase the pictures of him before anyone else saw them.

"I was going to tell you about the article," she began.

"It’s fine," he cut her off harshly. His lips pressed tightly together.

She opened her mouth to say more, but the doctor came back before she could get a word in. Sighing, she watched Ualan step back to watch the doctor work. She looked at him in dejection, wondering what he was thinking behind his emotionless mask of a face. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good and her heart broke a little because of it.

 

* * * *

Morrigan was released into Ualan’s care. He carried her home and laid her down on his bed where he watched vigilantly over her when she fell asleep, completely worn. She was going to be all right. Ualan wasn’t. He felt horrible. It had been his duty to protect her and he had failed. Now, she was poisoned for the second time.

Going downstairs, he went to work on the food simulator he had bought for her as a surprise. Ualan really didn’t like it and didn’t know why he had bothered, as he installed it into the wall. If he couldn’t protect her like he promised, then he couldn’t expect her to want to stay. He cared for her too much.

"Coffee," he said to try the machine out. When the door beeped, he pulled out a cup of steaming hot black-brown liquid. Smelling it, he grimaced. That couldn’t be right.

Closing the door, he said, "Sloken."

The door beeped again and when he opened it he eyed the green liquid. It smelled normal and he tried a little taste. It wasn’t the best he ever had, but it was adequate. Maybe it was working.

Ualan frowned, drawn to check on Morrigan. Climbing the stairs, he joined her on the bed. Gently, he laid his hand on her hip, studying her pale, sleeping face in the darkness. If she was unhappy on his planet, then all he could do was give her what she wanted. Though it would kill him, it was time to let go.

 

* * * *

The news came soon after Ualan got his wife home that Pia’s blonde servant was apprehended almost immediately upon the Princes entering the palace kitchens. They found him hiding behind one of the big brick ovens, ducking from his work. Zoran’s nose picked up the Var smell beneath an all too potent covering of Draig.

The spy must have known that he was found out, because he tried to run. It was no use. Yusef was standing in the doorway and with a swing of his good arm he punched the man square in the jaw and laid him out on the floor.

The Draig servants blinked in surprise at the sudden attack, but as they witnessed the lazy man sprawled on the ground, they began to cheer without knowing his deceit. As a fellow worker, the Var spy was not well liked in the kitchen.

The royal family was relieved as news was spread of the spy’s capture. Olek escorted the man to the lower prisons and even now the Var was being questioned by Agro. Ualan had no doubt that the beefy giant would discover much from the man. When Agro chose to shift, he could be most persuasive.

 

* * * *

Unable to draw out his love play any longer, Ualan guided himself into his wife. With a firm stroke, he delved into her moist opening, gliding in her like he belonged there. A victorious shout came from him as he claimed her. Morrigan growled in exhilaration, not caring who heard her loud cries. Ualan plunged onward in excitement, compelling her hot center to open for him and accept him in her tight depths.

Sitting back on his feet, he pulled her up so she could ride him. Morrigan did so willingly, pushing herself up and pulling herself down in a frightfully decadent rhythm of searching lunges. Deeper he went, imbedded fully into the prison of her silky depths, only to be released and recaptured again and again.

Morrigan grabbed the sides of the bath, splashing water over the edge as she rode him faster and harder, seeking fulfillment to the torment he caused with his endless teasing and his … his….

"Ahhh," Morrigan shrieked her trembling freedom into the Breeding Festival tent. Ualan met her, his cry rivaling hers in passion and release. Her lips parted, and he heard her whisper, "I love you, Ualan."

It was only a dream.

Sitting up with a jerk, Ualan’s body was drenched with sweat. He blinked, looking around the living room before realizing he’d fallen asleep on the couch. His head turned looking up to the bedroom. His body was hard, thumping against the restraint of his pants.

He would just go check on her, he assured himself, as he stood with a single-minded purpose coursing through his fevered blood.

"Ualan?" he heard her voice to call softly into the darkness when he climbed up the stairs. "Is that you?"

She seemed frightened. Maybe he should comfort her. A devil’s grin came to his face. "Yes, Rigan."

He heard her sigh.

"I was having a nightmare. Where were you? I woke up and you weren’t here."

"I fell asleep downstairs," he answered. Was that disappointment in her voice?

"Oh," Morrigan sighed. Then, timidly, she asked, "Are you coming to bed now?"

Ualan walked over to the bed. He could see her clearly with his Draig vision. Her hand reached out for him. He tensed, moving over slightly so her fingers could find him.

Morrigan gasped. Ualan groaned. Her fingers had landed on his stiff member.

He watched her face carefully. She smiled, not knowing he could see her as she licked her lips.

"Ualan?" she whispered. Her hand didn’t move. She edged timidly over the material to feel him. Her lips parted and she panted softly. Her perfume filled his nostrils. Suddenly, her hands were on his waist, drawing his pants down over his hips. The warm air hit him, fanning from her parted lips.

He saw her face hesitating, as if she waited for his response.

"Don’t stop," he commanded. His stomach tensed. Morrigan leaned forward lightly kissing the dip of his navel. His arousal brushed her cheek and again she looked up at him, unable to see him in the darkness.

The images of his dream came floating through his mind, powerful and all consuming.

"Undress," he whispered.

Morrigan obeyed instantly. She knew she should stop and demand he listen to her explanation about the article--that she would only submit it after she had his approval. Morrigan knew it was against every journalistic code to give a copy of the piece to the subject before print, but she didn’t care. It was a small sacrifice to pay if it would regain his trust in her.

Ualan watched the unveiling of her flesh in the darkness. Her breasts rose and fell--tempting his lips. Just seeing her heated his blood past boiling. His skin was on fire with the need to feel her. And, by watching her jerking, hurried movements, he knew that in this they felt the same.

"Turn from me and kneel," Ualan breathed.

Morrigan shivered, liking his steady commands, the assurance in his words as he spoke. She turned her back to him without protest, looking over her shoulder to try and see if he moved. She felt his weight shift the bed.

"Bend over."

Morrigan wondered why he did not touch her. Her body sang with liquid fire, emboldened by the darkness and the persuasively mysterious feel of his words.

Ualan knelt behind her, his eyes burning as he watched her. When she complied, Ualan said, "Now back yourself up until you feel me against you."

"Ualan?" she panted, but she did not hesitate to crawl back on the bed. When she was within grabbing distance, he sprang forward and firmly grasped her hips in his palms.

Morrigan yelped, startled.

Ualan pulled her thighs to part so that he could stroke her with his hand. She rubbed up against him, a low humming noise coming from her to drive him wild. His fingers gently parted her, sliding along her opening, stroking first one then two fingers up inside her. Her whimpering grew into cries of delight. Her opened mouth begged him for release. Only when he’d stroked her to flames, did he pull her back against him.

Ualan pressed her down, spreading her wider so she was the perfect height to accept him. He groaned to feel her wetness taking him in. With a mighty thrust he conquered her. Morrigan gasped at the fullness of him, still surprised each time that he could force himself so deep.

"Ualan," she shrieked, yelling his name, urging him on. Her hands twisted onto the bed, clutching as she tried to hold on.

Ualan moved, spurred on by the thrusting image of her body before him. Her breasts reflected back to him from the mirror, teasing him with their bobbing movements. Her back arched. His hands ran into her hair, pulling the tender threads lightly in his fingers.

Morrigan gasped, not minding his hold on the locks. Reaching a hand around her body, he stroked her womanhood as he thrust. Morrigan jerked, never having felt such pleasure as she did with him.

Their bodies built with the tension he created with his claiming. They panted, moaned, yelled in ecstasy. Ualan hit against her, delving harder, deeper. Morrigan trembled with violent gratification, her body tensing as she spasmed in pure pleasure.

Ualan grunted, loosing himself in to her. He hollered viciously, jerking his arms to slam her hips hard against him a last couple of times.

Almost instantly, Morrigan dropped when he let her go. She lay on her stomach, raggedly gulping for air. Her body waited for Ualan to come beside her, to touch her with tenderness and approval. Ualan dropped down to the bed, but his hands didn’t stray to her body. Morrigan felt tears rise up in her eyes. He might desire her enough to come to her to slake his lust, but he wasn’t speaking to her and he didn’t move to hold her.

Ualan wanted to pull her into his arms, but he would not delude himself into thinking she cared when she did not. Didn’t her mention of her story mean she was still thinking about her past, longing for it? The loneliness, which drove him away from her earlier, returned tenfold to haunt him.

Morrigan held still, her body still weak from his touch. She closed her eyes, listening until she heard him fall asleep. Then, when she was sure he slept, she softly lifted herself from the bed, careful not to wake him. Morrigan quietly dressed, sneaking down the stairs. When she made the bathroom, she locked the new door. Curling into a ball, she began to cry.

 

* * * *

Ualan felt his wife get up and heard her soft descent down the bedroom stairs. He wondered what she was up to. But, as he heard the bathroom door open and close, he shut his eyes. His heart ached even as his body sung with the feel of her. Feeling a deep pain making itself a home in his chest, he tried not to breathe. It was the feeling of his heart dying.

Chapter Nineteen

 

Morrigan sat, lounging across the arms of her chair as she lifted her bare foot to dangle over the side. Ualan had been gone for the last day with his brothers, plotting vengeance. She knew that he felt bad about what happened, but she didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t touched her since the night of the attack, but Morrigan hoped he was just giving her time to recover. It was sweet of him to give her space, but she wished he didn’t bother. Biting her nails in away that really irritated her mother-by-marriage, she said, "I need a job."

"You have a job," said the woman calmly.

Morrigan looked at her. Reaching down, she picked her coffee up from the floor and sipped. Ualan had looked at her strangely when she thanked him for the simulator by sprinkling kisses all over his face and proclaiming him the best husband in the world. He had pulled away, mumbling something about needed to meet with Zoran.

Morrigan shook her head as she set the cup down. "Being a wife is not a real job."

"The others might disagree with you," the woman chuckled warmly.

"It’s work," she said with a ‘don’t get me wrong’ tone. "But it’s not a job. I need something to do. I can’t just sit around here all day waiting for Ualan to get back from whatever he does. I need more than that."

"What do you want to do?"

"Well, I am a reporter."

"We have no need for a reporter," the Queen said with a delicate shrug. "All news spreads by word of mouth or royal decree."

Morrigan frowned. She was restless. Ualan got to leave all day to do princely things. What was she supposed to do? Lie around and get fat? Not likely.

"I’m sorry I can’t help you," said Mede, before scowling and motioning Morrigan’s finger from her lip. Morrigan sheepishly obeyed, grinning like a disobedient child. "Have you talked to Ualan about this?"

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