WinterofThorns (20 page)

“Alone, boy,” Dyson said. His thin lips
were tight, jaw clenched. “Bring no one with you.”

“That ain’t negotiable, Montyne,” Hawkins
added.

Though he didn’t, Seyzon said, “I
understand.”

“Make that hour count,” Dyson said.

“I will.”

“Then go,” Bray ordered. “What the fuck are
you wasting time here for? We’ve got your back.”

A grin was all Seyzon could give the three
men for there was a lump in his throat making further words impossible. His
palms were sweating. His heart was thumping wildly. If he got caught, he knew
the Reivers would leave him to his fate.

Idly he wondered how much the postern gate
guard had been paid for unlocking the door and looking the other way. Not that
it mattered. He was grateful for the man’s greed.

And the guard’s allegiance to the Reivers
for once he was at the gate, Seyzon was greeted with a knowing smile if not
encouraging words.

Slipping inside the fortification, he was
struck by the dimness of the interior and realized the guard had extinguished
all but a single light at the top of the stairwell. It would have been nearly
impossible for any guards on the battlements or upon the barbican to have seen
the gate open and an intruder gain entry to the keep.

“Once you have gained the top of the
stairs, turn left and follow the corridor to a Y intersection,”
Hawkins had told him
. “Take the right branch and continue about
thirty feet until you come to an unlit light. It will be the only one in that
corridor not working. Just to the left side of it, press the fourth stone from
the top and a passageway will open. Take that passageway to where it dead ends.
Wait there. A servant will come to fetch you. He will greet you as Marcus. Any
other name or no name at all, knock the bastard out and run like hell back the
way you came. Understood?”

So much had gone into this operation.
Dozens of people had been employed to give him this hour. All the sorties in
which he’d taken part over the last few weeks had brought him here. This was
one solitary mission only he could undertake and all the skills he had learned,
had honed from the phantom warriors who were the Reivers would hopefully hold
him in good stead. He needed to utilize the lessons that had been drummed into
his head with every Meiramanian cargo that had been taken, every Meiramanian
treasury that had been robbed, and every Meiramanian official with vital
information who had been intercepted and questioned. He was on his own but he
wasn’t alone.

His men had his back.

Locating the hidden panel, he pressed the
stone and a hidden doorway swung silently open. Warm air replaced the cold that
had been drafting down the corridor and with it came the scent of gardenias. He
drew a lungful of air into his body and closed his eyes, savoring the smell for
it reminded him vividly of Jana’s perfume.

Entering into the small room that was no
more than five foot square, he felt the door through which he’d entered close
quietly behind him. When it did, a soft light came on overhead and he looked
up. The hazy glimmering came from a phosphor lamp recessed into the ceiling. It
gave everything around him—including his hands—a strange greenish glow.

“Ah, how do I get back out?” he whispered.
He turned to what appeared to be a solid wall behind him and ran his hands over
the stone. He sought a panel like the one he’d used to get into the small room
but though he pressed every stone he could reach, the door through which he’d
come did not open.

It was really warm in the little room and
he was beginning to sweat.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he mumbled.

He wasn’t expecting the wall opposite him
to come flying at him as the secret panel in that section of the room opened.
The portal hit him in the face and knocked him backward.

“Shit!” he snarled, putting a hand to his
nose where he felt moisture flowing.

“Lord Marcus?” a timid voice whispered
beyond the door.

“Aye,” Seyzon snapped. Blood was dripping
through his fingers as he exited the room and walked out into a brightly lit
corridor.

“Oh!”

“Aye, oh!” Seyzon agreed.

“Here, milord,” the little man said,
reaching into his back pocket for a kerchief. “I am so deeply sorry. I did not
realize you might be standing—”

“Just take me where I need to go,” Seyzon
interrupted. “I’ve only got an hour.”

“Of course, milord! This way!”

The man took off at a quick pace though
Seyzon followed more slowly. He wasn’t altogether sure his nose wasn’t broken
and though the kerchief had staunched the flow of blood, it smelled of things
he didn’t want to contemplate.

“Who owns this keep?” he asked the man
hurrying ahead of him.

“Duke Alastair McGiveny,” the man replied.
“He is the—”

“King’s Chamberlain,” Seyzon stated. “I know
who he is.”

They had been winding their way through so
many corridors, down so many dog-leg turns he knew he would never be able to
find his way back where he started.

“Where will you be when I’ve completed my
mission?” he asked.

“I will be waiting for you, milord. Have no
fear on that account. I am Lord Bray’s man from start to finish.”

They rounded a corner and the sound of
music playing in the distance made Seyzon frown. “Is McGivney having a party?”

“Aye, milord,” the man replied. “He is
giving a reception in honor of Prince Vindan.”

Seyzon reached out to snag the little man’s
arm and spun him around. “The prince is here?” he demanded.

“Aye, milord.”

“And the Lady Jana?” Seyzon pressed. “Is
she here, as well?”

The man blinked. “Did Lord Bray not tell
you, milord?”

Tamping down an urge to throttle the man,
Seyzon shook him. “Tell me what?”

“The party is being thrown for the Prince
and Lady Jana.”

* * * * *

Jana paced nervously as she awaited the
arrival of the agent she had been told to expect. Since the morning after her
forced Joining to Vindan Brell, she had gone looking for a way to undermine the
prince, his father and the men who allowed Seyzon to be cast out of the land of
his birth. It didn’t take her long to find like-minded people among those who
served Vindan. Chief among them was Silus Murphy, the Castilian of Wicklow
Castle.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I need to get a letter out of Wicklow
without the prince knowing of it,” she had told one of her maids. “Is there
someone in the keep who could help me?”

The maid had given her a horrified look and
she was afraid the woman would run straight to Vindan. Instead, the Castilian
had come to her bedchamber door the next morning after the prince had gone down
to break his fast.

“I was told you wanted to send a missive
beyond these walls,” Silus said. “May I ask to whom, Your Grace?”

There was something in the way the man was
looking at her that gave Jana the courage to tell him the truth. She had to
take a chance on trusting him.

“I want to contact the border lord. He is
holding captive someone very dear to me.”

“Lord Seyzon Montyne,” the man said. “If
you are concerned for him, do not be.”

Jana reached out to take the man’s hand
then drew him into her bedchamber, closing the door behind him.

“Tell me,” she ordered. “Tell me how he is!”

“He is well, Your Grace. Truly. No harm
will come to him.”

“He is a prisoner,” she said. “They are
holding him for ransom.”

“That is true, Your Grace, but he is being
treated as a guest of Lord Bray and not a prisoner.”

“Please tell me you can get a letter to my
hus…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “To Lord Montyne.”

“I am the eyes and ears of the Reivers at
Wicklow, milady,” Silus informed her. “If I can’t, no one can, but do not address
the letter to the young lord. Address it to Lord Bray and bid him only to send
you word on your friend’s condition. Should the missive be intercepted, you
want no personal message you write to Lord Montyne to fall into the wrong
hands.”

“No,” she said. “You are right. That would
be dangerous for Seyzon.”

“Write your letter and I will see it is
delivered. It may take a while for the men move often to avoid being caught.
They are rarely at their base camp and not even I know where that is.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She had written the letter and Silus had
taken charge of it. Until two days earlier, she did not know whether it had
reached the right hands or not. When Silus informed her it had been delivered
to the border lord and there was a reply, her knees had threatened to give out
beneath her.

“His Lordship is sending an emissary
with news only for your ears,”
Silus told her.
“He
will be at Dungannon on the night of the reception Duke McGivney is throwing
for you and the prince. My brother Dunham is Castilian at Dungannon and he will
handle the meeting for you.”

“How—”

“At nine of the clock on the night of
the party you are to excuse yourself and go up to your bedchamber. Mayhap you
will suddenly come down with a megrim. My brother will then come to your
bedchamber and will take you through the hidden passageways of the keep to your
rendezvous with the emissary when he arrives. You will have exactly one hour—no
longer—to ask what you will of His Lordship’s man, to give him anything you
want Lord Montyne to receive.”

She had to stop and take a deep, calming
breath. Her heart was racing and her palms slick. Afraid Vindan might come up
to check on her, she had undressed and put on her nightgown, belted her velour
robe around her. It would be strange if she was still dressed in her ball gown
should he make an appearance and stranger still if she had donned regular
clothing at that time of the evening. Hopefully he would stay below until well
after midnight for the party had been to announce her pregnancy. Nearly
everyone who was anyone in Meiraman was at the party.

With the notable exceptions of the king and
queen and Seyzon’s mother.

“He couldn’t be bothered to make the twenty
mile ride from Blackhall to Dungannon to celebrate the news,” Vindan had
complained, hurt rife in his voice.

She had hoped the king would attend so she
could have a private audience with him regarding Seyzon but that was not to be.

A discreet knock at the door had her
rushing for the portal. She opened it to find a spindly man who bore a striking
resemblance to Silus standing there.

“We must hurry, Your Grace,” he said.
“We’ve only an hour.”

He looked both ways down the hall then
motioned her from her room. She followed him—trying to match her shorter
strides to his longer ones—down the hallway and to a large floor to ceiling painting
of the Cliffs of Gilmore. She watched him touch a hidden button on the edge of
the frame. The painting slid quietly to the left to reveal a narrow door. He
opened it with a key from the ring at his hip and stepped back.

“After you, Your Grace,” he said with a
slight bow.

Beyond the portal was unrelieved black and
she had to force herself to step inside. But as soon as Silus’s brother closed
the door behind him and she heard the lock engage, a faint light came on
overhead. The light revealed they were standing in the center of a long, dark passageway.

“This way,” he indicated with a sweep of
his hand.

Lifting the hem of her robe so it would not
touch the dusty floor, she followed him at a quicker pace. By the time they
reached an identical door farther down the passageway, she was out of breath.

“He is awaiting you, milady,” the man said.
“I shall return in one hour’s time.”

* * * * *

The room to which the servant led him was a
surprise. There was a bed, an armoire, a desk and chair, and in the corner behind
a screen was a commode chair. Obviously the room was used as a safe haven.

He heard the shuffle of footsteps outside
the door and turned to face it. When it opened and he saw Jana, his heart
missed a beat.

“Milady?” he whispered, unable to believe
she was standing in front of him.

Jana’s face turned white then a smile that
could rival the wattage of the sun spread over her lovely mouth and she flung
herself into his arms.

“Milady!” he growled, wrapping her tightly
against him.

He could not get enough of the sweetness of
her mouth. She tasted of honey and he was lost within her mouth. His lips
plundered hers almost brutally—the kiss deep and filled with weeks of built-up
passion. Thrusting his tongue into the soft recess of her mouth he felt his
cock grow hard as a titanium spike. Unbelievably his arms constricted even
tighter around her until he could feel every inch of her from mouth to groin.
Unaware he was doing so, he backed her across the room and to the hard wall,
pinning her there with his body as he slanted his lips first one way and then
another across hers.

Her arms were around his neck—holding him
to her as though he were a lifeline. She was making little moaning sounds deep
in her throat and when she hooked her leg around his as best she could
considering the restriction of the long robe she was wearing, he growled
fiercely.

“Want. You,” he mumbled against her lips
before plunging his tongue deeply inside her mouth once more.

“Aye,” she managed to agree.

And then his hands were all over her as he
fumbled wildly to drag the robe—and the confounding gown beneath it—up to her
hips. Her hands were in his hair, holding his head tightly to her shoulder as
he struggled to get the fly of his pants unbuttoned. Freeing his straining
cock, he shoved his left hand under her rump and lifted her, pushing inside her
slick heat before clamping his right hand to her cheek as well. She locked her
ankles at the small of his back while he rode her hard.

She clung to him as he rammed into her with
such force she knew her backbone would be bruised for she was sliding up and
down the stone wall with each hard thrust of his pelvis. His mouth was once
more covering hers and the grunts that came from the depths of him as he jacked
his hips into hers brought goose bumps to her arms.

Their climaxes were simultaneously—roaring
like a rocket to release. He shoved brutally into her as she came and that only
served to heighten her orgasm. The savage taking was completely unlike him but
it seemed to her he was like a starving man before whom a banquet had been
placed. He could not feast fast enough to satisfy the hunger that ate at him.
The strong pulses of her vaginal muscles milking him seemed to spur him and he
pumped twice more into her body then stilled as the last spurt of his cum was
released. Beneath his shirt, she could feel his heart hammering. His breath was
hot and damp against her shoulder where his forehead rested. His entire body
shook as she cradled him against her.

“I love you,” he said brokenly and she
smoothed the hair from his forehead.

“As I love you,” she told him.

He raised his head, searched her eyes. “By
the gods, Jana, I have missed you,” he said and moisture formed around the blue
orbs of his own.

“I have missed you more,” she said, smiling
as gently at him as her trembling mouth would allow. “I cannot believe you are
here.”

“We have the border lord to thank. I did
not know you would be here. He didn’t tell me who I would be meeting.”

“Nor was I told.” She stroked his
sweat-dampened face.

“We’ve a champion in him, milady,” he told
her.

“It would seem so.”

Her legs were wrapped around him as he
pulled her from the wall and walked her to the bed. Gently he eased her down.
She stretched out and moved over to give him room to lie beside her. When he
was on the mattress, he drew her into his arms and her head went to his
shoulder. Her hand went to his limp cock as it lay resting upon the open fly of
his pants. She held him tenderly in her palm.

“You have been well?” she asked.

“I have been miserable,” he said then
hooked a finger under her chin to tilt her face to his. “Without you.”

“Take me from here, Seyzon,” she said.
“Please take me with you.”

Pain registered in his blue gaze.
“Dearling, I cannot. I was warned not to bring anyone back with me and now I know
why. The entire keep would be on our heels. I can’t risk being captured until
Lord Bray and I have come up with a plan to get you back safely and
permanently.”

“I cannot stand being with him another
day,” she said.

Fierceness replaced the gentle look on his
face. “Has he hurt you?” His lips drew back from his teeth. “If that bastard
has hurt you—”

“No, Zonny, no,” she said. “He has not.
He’s never raised a hand to me nor treated me with anything other than respect.
Truth be told, he has been gentler with me than most other men in his
position.”

“What does that mean?” he demanded, his
hand tightening on her chin.

“He knows I don’t love him. He forced me to
marry him but as far as I am concerned you are my husband and always will be.
I’ve told him as much.”

“I will get you away from him, Jana. Before
the gods, I will.”

“There is something I need to tell you,”
she said.

“Tell me later,” he said. “Right now, I
need to have you again else I will go stark-raving mad.”

He pushed her to her back and covered her
breast with his hand, flung a leg over hers and lifted his knee until it was
the apex of her thighs. Kneading her more roughly than he intended he growled
low in his throat then pushed the robe aside, snagged the top of her gown and
tugged until he could latch his lips upon her breast. He drew her nipple deep
into his mouth then flicked his tongue over it. She arched her hips to meet his
tender assault, spiked her hands through his hair. He tore at the sash of her robe
until he had it open, flung the far side away then dragged her gown downward to
bare her other breast to him. He shifted his attention to it as he moved over
her to wedge himself between her legs. Pushing her thighs farther apart with
his knee, he settled himself in the cradle of her hips as he feasted on her
breast.

The feel of him. The scent of him. The
weight of him. The heat from his mouth. The wetness of his tongue. Jana was
aching as she never had before to have him inside her. Her cunt was dripping
and pulsing with need. She tugged at his hair for his mouth was creating havoc
with her body and she wanted him to take her. She toed off her slippers, kicked
them off the bed for she wanted to feel her feet touching his.

Instead of entering her, he slid down her
body, shoved the gown aside and put his mouth to her core. He licked her sweet
folds, flicked his tongue against her clit then thrust it into her.

“Seyzon!” she hissed and came hard. Her
legs tensed—heels pushing into the mattress—and ground her lower body against
his mouth. He lapped at her until she pleaded no more and pushed his head from
her overly sensitive flesh. “Enough!” she begged.

“Not even close to being enough,” he said
in a deep, passion-filled voice she barely recognized. He was up and over
her—his cock buried deep within her—before she could take another breath.

Ramming into her just as hard as he had
before, he arched his back into the thrusts, plunging forward with heavy slaps
of his body against hers. His arms were like steel columns to either side of
her as he drove mindlessly into her in search of the release she knew would be
fierce. At the moment he came, he threw his head back and howled. The sound
shocked her but it seemed right.

His arms gave out and he collapse atop
her—one-hundred-seventy-five pounds of spent male. The weight of him was so
delicious it made her ache between her legs.

“You—”

“No talking, sweeting,” he asked. “No
words. Just hold me.”

Her arms came down to circle his back and
she pressed him to her. She draped her legs over his calves and closed her eyes
to better savor the moment of having him with her.

Seyzon stared across the room at the desk.
There was a digital clock atop it. He wondered if it had been there all along
or had been left to let him know how much time he had left. The thought of
leaving Jana with Vindan hurt so bad it made his heart stutter. They had
twenty-six minutes left and he wanted to make each one count.

He rolled off her and sat up. Without a
word, he held out his hand to lift her to sitting position. Slowly, he peeled
the robe from her shoulders and pushed it down her arms. There were no words
needed for she shrugged it away then lifted her hips so she could remove her
gown. She pulled the garment over her head and his eyes dipped to the absolute
perfection of her firm breasts. He wanted to be skin to skin with her.

Swinging his legs from the bed, he jerked
off his boots and tossed them aside. He stood, ran the buttons of his shirt,
unbuttoned the cuffs and let the shirt fall behind him. His pants were unbound
and it took little to push them down his legs and kick them away.

His cock pulsed as Jana’s attention dropped
to the juncture of his thighs. He climbed back on the bed and lay down. His
head had barely touched the pillow when she threw a leg over his hips,
straddled him and leaned forward to put her hands on his pecs. She massaged his
chest then leaned down to capture his mouth. Her hands went to either side of
his head to hold him steady. Her tongue was velvet heat as it slipped firmly
between his lips to duel with his own.

He clamped his hands to her hips, lifted
his ass so he could press against her. Skin to skin, the feeling was
intoxicating. As she raped his mouth, licked his lips, nibbled them, her
nipples tickled his chest.

She kissed him until he was hard enough to
slip between her folds. As her hand went to his cock—fingers wrapping securely
around him—he was filled with such love for her, such overwhelming desire he
could have died then and there and been the happiest man on the face of the
planet. He expected her to place him inside her but instead she thrust her legs
downward and glided down his chest until she could take him in her mouth.

“Mother of the goddess!” he hissed as she
sucked him deep. The pull on his shaft, the lap of her tongue as it traveled
from base to the midway point on the underside was an exquisite torture that
had him squirming beneath her. It was his hands to her hair this time as she
drew upon his flesh, slid him nearly out then swirled her tongue around his
engorged head. She flicked her tongue into the opening and he fought hard not
to come.

He wanted to.

The gods knew he wanted to but he held
back. He opened his mouth to tell her to stop but only a croak came out for she
shot up in the bed and was stuffing him inside her before he could make another
sound. She began riding him as though he were a wild pony to be broken to
saddle. Her breasts bounced with each downward push against his groin and when
he came, she tightened her inner muscles so firmly it took his breath away and…

He came hard.

Sweet Merciful Alel he came so hard he
thought the top of his head would blow off. He literally saw flashing lights at
the periphery of his vision and thought he would black out the pleasure was so
intense. Her vaginal muscles were clamping, releasing, clamping then releasing
again as wave after wave of cum pulsed from his throbbing shaft. The last spurt
drained him completely and he found himself as limp as a noodle as she sat
perched on his groin, her smile so knowing, so wicked it sent a shiver down his
spine.

She stretched out atop him and laid her
head on his shoulder, her long legs between his, her cute little toes stroking
his ankle. One hand tangled in the hair matting his chest and she began to
twirl the hair.

“Seyzon?” she asked softly.

“Aye, sweeting.”

“There is something I need to tell you.”

The knock came at the worst possible
moment. Not only was he not prepared for it, one glance at the clock told him
he had nearly ten minutes left.

“Milord?”

Seyzon sighed. “Aye?”

“You need to leave now. The prince is
searching for the lady.”

Jana lifted her head and gave him a look
that cut him to the quick. He shook his head when she would have spoken.

“I’ve got to go.” He eased her from him and
rolled out of bed, reaching for his pants in the same move.

“Seyzon, please,” she said. “Take me with
you.”

“Baby, you know I can’t,” he said as he
thrust his legs into his pants. “But I will be coming for you. Never doubt that
for a minute.”

She watched him as he shrugged on his shirt
and when he sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots, she got on
her knees and put her arms around him, fiercely hugging him from behind. Her
nipples felt like brands burning their way into the flesh of his back. He
reached up to catch her hands in his and brought one to his lips. Placing a
light kiss on the underside of her wrist, he let her go, broke her hold on him
and got to his feet, tucking in his shirt as he moved toward the door.

Again the insistent knock came. “Milord?”

“All right. I’m coming!” Seyzon hissed. He
gave her one last look and reached for the door handle.

“Seyzon, I have to tell you—”

“I’m sorry, sweeting,” he said, opening the
door and putting out his hand to gently shove the servant back. He knew if
Vindan was looking for her it was only a matter of time before he raised the
alarm and that he couldn’t risk. He couldn’t be taken. Not now. He turned, blew
her a kiss then hurried through the door, closed it behind him.

Jana put a shaking hand to her mouth. As
much as she wanted to run after him—naked through she was—she knew it would be
dangerous for him. She posed a threat to his safety and freedom. Since the
prince was looking for her, she had to make sure he found her.

And quickly.

Flinging herself from the bed, she quickly
donned her gown, threw the robe over her shoulders and stabbed her arms into
the sleeve. She went to the door, opened it and poked her head out. She prayed
she could find her way back through the maze of corridors to the place where
she had entered the hidden passageway.