The Lethal Flame (Flame Series) (13 page)

His hand began to unwrap itself from the chain, loosening his hold but she did not move away.  She did not attack again for she clung to him and a groan escaped her as his tongue retreated to caress her lips as he drew them possessively into his mouth.  He felt her hands touch his arms, searing the flesh there, trailing fire all the way up to his chest where her palm pressed against his strength before the fingers gripped his tunic in a fist when his tongue took another dive into the warmth and sweetness that was Keri.  The other hand moved up his neck, to the back of his head, demanding he draw closer and he did the best he could to oblige her. 

His free hand came up and cupped the other side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb and he felt her lean into the caress.  His lips left hers drawn to the delicate skin of her neck, around her ear.  His breath stroked across her ear as his lips gently kissed her earlobe and he felt her shudder.  He used his thumb to tilt her head back gently to give him access to the gentle curve of her neck he trailed kisses down, her body responded, clinging to him, demanding of him.  Her fingers still gripped his tunic and the other hand held a healthy handful of hair but the pull on his scalp only drove him on.

Further down her neck he went to her collarbone, giving a small nip there before his tongue caressed the same spot followed by the gentlest of kisses.  On down he trailed a path to one of her breasts, his lips teased her nipple before sucking one into his mouth, his teeth caressing it as his tongue lapped gently at the peak.  She gasped, her hips swaying toward him.  His hands left her face to grip both her hips pressing her harder against himself as his head came up to look into her eyes.  They were clouded by passion, pleading him for more.

As soon as the caresses stopped the realization of what this man had done to her came flooding back in.  Despite he brought out feelings her body had never felt in endless years of marriage he was her enemy.  He had destroyed her home, the home she should have held for her son.  He had ripped her children from her, all she had left, and all she had to pass on were stories of the land they would never live on.  This man had caused it all.  This man who kept her as a slave with no freedom, no dignity left to her. 

Her hands fell from him and with a great deal of remorse and guilt for enjoying the touch of her enemy she brought her hands up between them and shoved him away.  He staggered backward, his hands held out as if he might still take hold of her the look of great loss crossed his face before shock took over.  Then his dark brows were snapping down over gray eyes now sparking with anger.  A smirk crossed his lips as he allowed those brilliant eyes to trail down her body then back to her face.  When they met her gaze again she did not feel the heat of them but the coldness of a winter stream and she knew the battle had just begun.

He turned from her and strolled toward the bed, his stride was that of a man who had won a victory and Keri couldn’t help but scowl, feeling apprehensive.  Grabbing one of the fur blankets he dragged it from the bed and walked back to her.

The smile on his face held no warmth as he stood out of her reach.  The
coward, she thought with a moment of triumph.

“I must admit I’ve had better whores,” he said letting his words sink in.  “But even the worst is as good as a blanket,” he said suddenly hurling the wadded blanket at her head. 

Keri caught it as he turned to walk away.  She would have hurled it at his retreating back but she was not stupid.  Instead she dove for the candle, since a fire stayed lit with Damien about and since no one would come in to light the candle if he did not it was of little use to her.  She refused to admit his hulking presence in the bed was enough to chase away the nightmares.  Dropping the blanket she grabbed the candle and with careful aim slung it at his head as he opened the door.  Her aim was true and it struck with a thud that seemed to echo around the chamber.  The large knight staggered under the blow.  She watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the door and the seal before slowly turning toward her.

As soon as his eyes met hers she raised her head a notch daring him to retaliate.  He turned back into the room and it was then she saw his squire Edwin obviously having witnessed the attack of the candle with his mouth ajar and his eyes wide before the door was slammed in his face.  Angry strides carried the knight back to her but she stood her ground against the wall having frozen in shock she had hurled a candle at his head.  He strolled within the reach of her chain.

“Come here,” he ordered standing in the center of her area of reach.

She shook her head, she hoped defiantly but she could not help the fear that was beginning to freeze the blood within her body.  She had struck him with a candle so she guessed she was stupid after all.  His scowl deepened and with agile speed he bent down and grabbed a length of the chain attached to her leg and gave a mighty yank. 

Keri’s foot was pulled out from under her and she fell, striking her head on the wall then the hard floor.  Dazed she felt pain shoot through her ankle as he used the shackle locked around it to drag her toward him.  She came to rest at his booted feet, the cloudiness of her fall refused to lift so she could jump up from the stones and face him head on.

The sole of his boot came down on her throat, threatening to squeeze the air from her.

“Do you yield?” his rumbling voice did not crack through the fog until he repeated it more than once.  When she shook her head defiantly the toe of his boot pressed down harder.

“Do you yield?”

Out of breath and fight she shook her head, her chin striking against the leather of the boot. 

He removed his foot from her but stood over her a moment, the sneer crossing his cold lips was unwelcome.  “I will break you,” he said with only cold certainty in his voice. 

She wanted to contradict him but her throat would not let any words pass and with a feeling of defeat settling over her Damien turned and left the room.

Chapter 8

The day dawned bright but by the time Keri raised her head from the soft fur of the blanket that made up her bed Damien was gone and her breakfast sat within her reach.  She snuggled back into the warmth of the blanket and slept more feeling as if she had not slept the entire time she had been chained here.  It was midday by the time she awoke again, to stretch and yawn the fatigue from her body.  She stood glancing out at the beautiful day and froze in the middle of her stretch, her muscles in her back and shoulders tightened before she allowed herself to relax.  Men sat on the hill outside the window.  She could see little of them at the distance but she guessed it was a good place to watch over the keep.  Fear wiggled in, finding its all too familiar place tightening her chest, Haltwhistle was under siege.

Fear turned to panic.  The realization that Damien’s treatment of her had been kind struck her.  After all, she had tried to take his head off with a battle ax, her chain too, not to mention the candle.  And yet he had not broken her, for with those large hands he could easily.    These were Liam’s men, she could feel it in the pit of her stomach.  What would he do when he found her chained to the wall of the master chamber?  She picked up the chain to give it a pull but she had long ago tested its strength until her fingers were sore and scabs were torn open from the effort.  She dropped it, letting the links slide through her fingers and it fell with cold echoes against the stones.  She pulled the blanket closer about herself and moved to the wall and sat down.  Her back against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest, the fur wrapped tightly around her she waited.

Midday turned into dusk and still no one came, not Damien to the chamber, not the men outside the walls.  She kept a constant, nearly maniacal vigilance on the men sitting on the hill until the darkness faded them into the landscape.  She thought of her candle as the shadows began to darken the entire interior of the chamber and still Damien did not come.

What if he had been out searching for Cyrille when they had come and he couldn’t get back in?  What if they had found him outside the walls and killed him?  She should feel satisfaction in the thought her enemy might be dead, but she did not.  The thought filled her with sorrow she told herself was from her fear of the unknown which were the men laying siege. 

Darkness had fallen by the time the door opened.  Keri jumped to her feet, wrapped in the blanket but the torch illuminated only Edwin as he entered the room.  In his
free hand he carried a tray and walked to just out of her reach and sat it on the floor then using his foot he slid it close enough she could reach it.

“What is going on?” she asked making no move toward him.

The boy only looked at her before moving to the hearth. 

The boy paused briefly as he broke the kindling for the fire that had died during the day.  “Tell me what is going on,” she snapped her nerves frayed.  Again he paused as if he might turn and say something but he went back to the making of the fire.

A thought suddenly occurred to her, “He told you not to talk to me?”

The boy’s head snapped around his cherubic face was swathed in shadows.  One day he would be a handsome young man with his blond, nearly white hair and the lightest blue eyes she had ever seen on a person.  He would have to get over his shyness, she was surprised he had any answering to a man like Damien. 

Edwin’s attention returned to the fire he lit before standing.  The flames licked upward, devouring the wood, crackling as it took the flame. 

“If he told you not to talk to me that would mean he is here,” she said as the boy started across the chamber.  As she spoke he picked up his step.  “Tell that whore’s son to come tell me what goes on.  How dare the coward keep me in the dark.  Tell the bastard he’d better come here and tell me or I’ll cut my own leg off and beat him with it when I find him!”  The door slammed behind Edwin before she finished telling him what she would do with her cut off leg.  If she had not been so angry at the boy’s fright she would have laughed as he all but ran from the room.  As it was she finished her tirade in a scream hoping it followed him down the corridor and he would get the idea of what she was saying to pass on to Damien.

It was much later when the door opened again.  Keri thought it must be Edwin for it did not slam against the wall as it normally did upon Damien's entrance.  When she caught sight of her tall captor she shot to her feet.  She was ready to let loose on him for keeping her in suspense all day but one look at his face made her tongue go silent.  His eyes were drawn with worry, fatigue etched their marks between his brows and his lips curled downward in a frown of anxiety.

“What has happened?” she asked, surprised after all her fuming that was what came out.

“Rebels, they want me to relinquish Haltwhistle to them,” his voice was forlorn. 

“You can take keeps, surely you can defend them.  I held out against you for a long time, do you need some pointers?” she asked allowing the scorn into her voice.  She wanted the battle hardened warrior, not the desolate man who stood before her.  “You have enough men to line these walls in shifts of three, at least.  As well as men to make more arrows, repair armor, heat and heft vats.  The strength in your numbers alone…”

“They have Cyrille.”

Damien’s response was a quiet one she wasn’t sure she heard correctly when it coincided with her own words.  “What?” she asked falling quiet.

“There will be no attack,” he said with anger thick in his voice as his flashing eyes consumed her.  “At least not until they kill Cyrille.”

Keri felt her legs grow weak and she braced herself with a hand against the wall.  He stared at her and she watched the anger flee, replaced by such stark vulnerability she fought the urge to reach for him.

“You can attack them,” she said rising to her full stance with confidence.  “You don’t have to wait for them.”

“Do you think I have not thought of that?” he snapped at her.  He went to the table and pulled off his sword and dagger laying them on the table top.  Seating himself he made quick work of his boots and was able to remove the light mail and gambeson.

“Can you not sneak a few men out to rescue your brother?”

“How?” he asked standing in front of her again in only his braies, his broad chest heaving as his temper began to rise with her questions it would seem.  “How do we get them out without them seeing?  Could you get out while we surrounded you?”

“No,” she replied defensively.  “But you’re not the one laying siege to Haltwhistle.”

“What difference does it make?” he snarled stepping within her reach. 
“What difference does it make?” she asked, scoffing at him.

His brows drew together as he looked upon her with disdain.  “You need to learn your place,” he snapped.

“And you need to stop being stupid and start worrying about what you can do instead of what you can’t do.”

“Do you doubt I would do whatever I can to save my brother?” he asked angrily.

Keri’s brow quirked up.  “Did you do all you could do when your brother was burned at the stake for your crimes?”

Thunder crashed across his face as the storm came like an apocalypse.  Before she could draw breath his big hand was wrapped around her neck and he had her lifted off her feet and pressed into the wall.  “You do not know what torture it was to know my brother suffered for me.”  His voice cracked, “To know he suffers for me now.”  His hand suddenly released her and she fell, her knees absorbing the shock and preventing her from finding herself on her backside in front of him. 

The storm was over as quickly as it began but instead of feeling triumph she felt defeat.  Where was his strength?  Where had the man gone that was so sure he would break her?   The man before her would never be able to break her for he appeared broken himself.

“It makes a difference you whore’s bastard because you are in here and not out there!” she yelled at him.  She moved toward him quickly, his mind consumed by his own sorrow he was defenseless against her.  She kicked out at him, raking his feet from under him.  He fell with a harrumph landing on his back, the air knocked from his massive chest.  She straddled him, the blanket forgotten but not the chain that made her his slave.  She wrapped it in her hands and pressed them down on either side of his exposed neck, the links digging into the skin there. 

He released one choked gasp before he reacted and a mighty arm came up and struck her in the shoulder, knocking her off him.  She landed, her leg pinned under him as he rolled toward her, grabbing at her arms in an effort to still her thrashing.  She kicked out with her free leg, catching him in the chin and making enough space to drag herself out from under him.  Once free of his weight she scrambled backward all the way back until she cornered herself.

The familiar sneer crossed his lips and the fighting spark lit his eyes.  He grabbed her chain and yanked her back toward him, under him and his lips were on hers, demanding she give up her defenses.  She told herself it was because his body now lay across hers, she couldn’t possibly fight to free herself.  She speculated he was much too angry after the emotions of the day for her to deny him and remain unscathed.  None of her excuses were enough to convince her that she did not want this man, this enemy.  He turned her life upside down, ripped it asunder
but she could not deny what he made her feel.  She wanted to feel it all and she wanted to feel what it would be like for this man’s lips to travel a course along her entire body.  She wanted to feel his hands on her breasts, to feel him settle between her legs and claim her.  She wanted him to show her how it could be.  She wanted him to wipe away every last memory of her husband mating with her, repulsing her. 

Fire and desire raced through her as he hungrily kissed her, his lips like a battering ram demanding entrance.  She gasped as his hand claimed a breast and his tongue gained access.  The gasp was lost along with his groan of satisfaction when her nipple peaked.  Her arms came out to press into his broad back, demanding more, demanding it all.   He seared a course across her cheek, to her ear where he brought another gasp from her as his hot breath caressed it and his tongue lapped at the very sensitive skin hidden behind her earlobe.  He wasted no more time, trailing down her neck kissing all the way to her collarbone, his mouth opening wider so she felt the soft caress of his teeth as he followed it up with a kiss and she wanted those teeth to latch to her breast.  She arched herself toward him and he did not disappoint her.  He raised himself only enough to place both hands between them, each claiming a breast followed closely by his mouth. 

At the first lick of fire noise escaped between her lips that let him know just how pleasurable she found his mouth on her.  His strong, calloused hands needed each breast as his mouth moved from one to another until she thought the fire would consume her.  With a sigh of sadness she let him know she did not appreciate one of his hands abandoning her breast followed quickly by another gasp as she felt that hand sliding up her thigh.  When the tip of his finger touched her at the peak of her womanhood she nearly flew from underneath him if his weight had not held her there.  She felt his mouth rise in a grin as he lavished her nipple again with a flick of his tongue making her writhe in pleasurable agony.

Voluntarily her thighs spread for him and she felt his hand cup her before a finger slipped easily inside and she felt she would nearly come undone.  Never had the entry of her been so gentle, as pleasurable as the one finger.  She bucked toward him wanting more, needing more.  Then his other hand left her breast to follow the trail of his lips as they kissed downward between her breasts to her stomach whose muscles tightened and loosened in her pleading undulation for him to give her more.  Down until his hot breath was there between her thighs and she though surely she would die from the pure wickedness of it.  Her fingers dove into his dark hair, balling into fists wanting to urge him but unsure in what way.  Then his tongue touched the place his finger had only moments ago and a moan escaped her, her hands thrust his head downward, pulling his hair in pure ecstasy as her hips drove upward. 

His own groan was muted by her thighs as his tongue coaxed another and another from her.  She thought the world was coming apart as a drumming began in her head.  Then his tongue dove inside her as his fingers gripped her thighs demanding she yield to him.  The muscles in her legs relaxed opening wider as she yielded.

A groan, this one full of frustration escaped him as he raised his head.  His eyes were full of the passion she herself was feeling and he stared up at her in wonderment.  The door was nearly jarred from its frame as a heavy fist beat against it again.  How long had someone been
seeking Damien’s attention?  Keri felt the loss spear straight to her chest as he cursed and rose from her.  He walked to the middle of the room smoothing the knot from his hair and straightening the tunic across his chest.  By the time he bid them enter she was standing with the blanket wrapped around her.  The fact that he looked back to insure she was decently covered before requesting the opening of the door confused her.

“Well?” Damien demanded as Roland stepped into the room.

“Garrick has sent a messenger,” Roland said as he took a hesitant step into the chamber.  He cast a quick glance in Keri’s direction. 

“They let a messenger through?”

“Not in his entirety,” the man stammered casting another look in Keri’s direction, his vivid blue eyes made her shiver.