The Temple of Sacrifice Page 9

  The light faded and Anje searched the room, frantic to see a speck of his beloved Gwyneira, but she was gone. He stood alone in the temple with only his broken heart and shattered memories for company.

  Chapter Ten

  Leaden skies heavy with rain threatened them most of the way north. Even with Rhoane manipulating time, they arrived at the first veil with steam rising from their horses and Kaida little more than a mass of soggy fur.

  Carga said little when they passed through the first few veils, her anxiety becoming more noticeable as they made their way farther into the forest. Taryn rested her hand on Carga’s, wishing her peaceful thoughts. From what Rhoane shared of his experience, it was torture for an exiled Eleri to return to the Weirren. It felt akin to a thousand tiny cuts being inflicted over and over without reprieve.

  Darennsai, Kaida said quietly in Taryn’s mind, I would very much like to see my sire and dam.

  Go to your family with my blessing. Find me at the Weirren when your visit is complete.

  Kaida barked before running off into the woods, a streak of silver against the mist. At Rhoane’s questioning look, she explained, “She wants to see her family.”

  Carga laughed nervously. “I know how she feels. It seems forever since I have been in these woods.”

  “The forest has missed you,” Taryn told her. Rhoane and Carga exchanged a meaningful look and Taryn challenged, “What? You thought the trees only spoke to you?”

  Carga suppressed a grin. “Not at all, sister. How wonderful you can hear it.”

  Leaves of gold, russet, and crimson rested like gems set in a sea of green. Moss and lichen-covered tree trunks stretched up to skeletal branches. Other trees remained bare-trunked but full of lush, verdant leaves, as if the vier couldn’t commit to one season or another.

  King Stephan waited for them atop the steps to the great Weirren, watching their arrival with a guarded smile. Although his daughter had returned, he could not officially acknowledge her until she was purified. Stephan greeted Rhoane in the Eleri custom and then turned to Taryn. His eyes searched hers for several moments and he sighed.

  “You are so very nearly Eleri. No longer Aelan, but not quite full Eleri. These will tell us when you are complete.” He tapped her ears before kissing her on the cheek. “Welcome, daughter.”

  She curtsied low, saying in Eleri, “My heart is at peace with you this day.”

  “Not only have you learned the Eleri language, you know our customs as well.” He bowed to her. “Truly you are a blessing.” Sadness clouded his eyes as he looked at his daughter. “Carga. I will save our greeting for after the ceremony.”

  Tears shone in Carga’s eyes, but she nodded her acceptance.

  King Stephan led Taryn not to the queen’s chambers as before, but to rooms adjoining Rhoane’s. After she bathed and changed into an Eleri gown, she went in search of Eoghan. She smiled when she found him in the library, sprawled on a chair with a book in his lap. He and Eliahnna were made for each other.

  There would come a time when she would have to explain to King Stephan Eoghan was leaving the Weirren for an Aelan girl, but that day was far off still. For the time being, she would keep Eliahnna and Eoghan’s secret. When he bade her give Eliahnna a gift after their first visit to the Weirren, Taryn had declined, citing her tenuous position with the court. But Eoghan was nothing if not persistent and Taryn finally agreed to take his gift to her sister when they returned to Talaith.

  Nothing more than a small piece of bark from the great tree, Eoghan had sanded the pendant smooth and inscribed it with Eleri words of devotion. To an outsider, it looked like a trifle, but to Eliahnna it was priceless.

  “Does the sight of me really cause you so much pain, sister?” Eoghan asked and Taryn jumped. It still surprised her when Rhoane’s siblings referred to her as their sister, but to them, when King Stephan declared her Darennsai, she became part of their family.

  “No, my sweet brother, it fills my heart with joy to see you.” She embraced him with as much warmth as she could muster. “I have a message for you from Eliahnna.”

  Excitement danced in his eyes. “Did she enjoy my gift?”

  “Very much so. She wears it around her neck on a leather cord. Of course, she has to hide it from Mother, but I think she feels the risk is worth it.”

  “And what is this message you have for me?”

  Taryn presented him with a shell Eliahnna found in the cove near the palace. “Eliahnna said you need to put it to your ear.” When Taryn had done so, nothing happened.

  Eoghan beamed at Taryn. “Thank you, sister. This gift is wonderful.”

  “Did you hear the ocean?”

  “No, something more musical. Eliahnna spoke to me in the shell.”

  “I do not want to know what she said. I am already in enough trouble if your father finds out I am playing messenger between you two.”

  They sat opposite each other in overstuffed chairs and Taryn sank into the soft cushions, exhaustion washing over her. “Have you thought about this, Eoghan? I mean seriously thought of what your father is going to do when he finds out you have given your heart to an Aelan? She cannot become Eleri. At least, all the information I have found makes it sound like I am the only one who can do that.”

  “I know. I have been searching for a way myself, but I do not think she is meant to become Eleri. I think I am meant to live among Aelans.”

  Taryn paused, choosing her words carefully. “Perhaps you should spend more time with her before you make an important decision like that. You cannot just meet someone once and know you are meant to be together forever.”

  “Was it not like that with you and Rhoane?”

  A familiar tugging of her heart burned against her guilt. She hadn’t fallen madly in love with him the first time she saw him. He’d been an image from a dream. Perhaps in her childish fantasies, she fancied herself in love with him. When she met him in the cavern, it wasn’t fireworks and love sonnets. There was attraction, yes, but neither love nor trust.

  Her love for him grew over time. She hoped it was the kind of love that would last to eternity. “I was raised far from these customs. It has taken me longer to adjust than I think some people would like. If Rhoane and I are to be together for the rest of our lives, then I would like to know I am making the right choice not just for me, but for him as well.”

  “Rhoane never once doubted his love for you or the commitment it took to take his oath.”

  “What oath?”

  Eoghan hesitated and Taryn urged him to continue. If he knew something she should know, he had to tell her.

  “When Rhoane was told of Verdaine’s prophecy, he invoked an ancient Eleri oath that bound him to you. He vowed to love and protect you, forsaking all others until his death.”

  The air stilled for a moment. Specks of dust hung suspended in rays of the afternoon sun and then drifted off when she breathed again. “What you are telling me is if I should decide not to choose Rhoane, he will never have a mate?”

  Eoghan nodded and her insides melted. “Rhoane was able to make that kind of commitment without ever knowing me. Why does that scare the hell out of me?”

  Eoghan leaned forward, saying softly, “Because you are looking at this with your mind and not your heart. You love my brother, I can see that, but you are trying to rationalize all that has happened to you. Why do you think you spend so much time with your scrolls? To answer all those questions you have in your head. You do not need words to tell you what to do. You already know.” He put a hand over her racing heart. “In here.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I do not know how.”

  He tenderly wiped her tears with his thumb. “Stop thinking so much and just feel. Let it come to you. Do not force it or it will drift away like smoke from a flame. Just be still and listen.” He put his forehead to hers, holding her face between his hands. They were warm with gentleness beneath their strength, like Rhoane’s. “Everything you need is inside you already. You just
have to trust yourself.”

  Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “I am afraid.”

  “Of what, Darennsai?”

  “Failing.”

  “If you do nothing, that is failure. If you try and do not succeed, that is learning. Success is in the doing, in the being present for every moment.”

  She sniffed, choking on a laugh. “Just how old are you, anyway?”

  “I am only one hundred twenty-two.”

  “Only.” She dried her tears with the handkerchief he handed her. “Thank you.”

  He patted the pocket where he placed the shell. “No, thank you. Would you like to walk in the garden before dinner?”

  “There is someone I need to talk to first.”

  Eoghan was right. She had to stop living in fear, but how to stop the constant loop of anxiety was the one riddle she had yet to master. One thing she knew for sure—ignoring a situation meant certain failure.

  She might’ve skipped to Rhoane’s room, or sprinted, or simply strolled there, she couldn’t remember, for the fresh wave of anxiety that crowded her thoughts. Happy anxiety. At least, she hoped Rhoane would think so, too. Palms sweating, she stood outside his door for several minutes before knocking.

  “Taryn, this is a surprise. Would you like to come in?” He opened the door to her, but she shook her head.

  “Are you busy? I thought we could go for a walk.” Taryn’s heart lodged itself in her throat and the words tumbled out a garbled mess.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “To the bower, if you do not mind.”

  Rhoane’s wicked, little half-smile said he didn’t mind one bit, but there was a question in his glance and her insides trembled.

  They said very little as they wound their way up the never-ending steps to the top of the Weirren. The sun huddled low in the sky to the east, the air crisp. Despite the cold, the leaves of their bower were lush and full. The Weirren never lost its foliage, even in the darkest days of Wintertide. It was how it had always been.

  When she shivered, Rhoane produced a thick blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders. A wall of his ShantiMari domed over them. He pulled her hair out from under the blanket, running his fingers through to the tips.

  Taryn swayed into his caress. “I have been unfair to you, Rhoane. Despite the wedge Marissa put between us, you never wavered in your feelings for me. Even after Harvest, I withheld myself from you. I am sorry.”

  She ran her hands up his clothing to his face, letting the blanket fall around them. A fire lit in his eyes and uncertainty gripped her. She had much better control of her powers than she did the morning in the orchard when her tempest nearly choked the life from them, but she was hesitant. Terrified, more like it. And not just of her power.

  She shoved her apprehension to the back of her thoughts and focused on the man in front of her. Held onto the desire he reflected back to her. “Before we go any further, I need to know that you want to be with me because you love me, as a woman and not as the Darennsai or anything I am supposed to be. If you do not, then I have no choice but to release you from your oath.”

  The desire vanished from his eyes and he stepped away as if burned. “How do you know about my oath?”

  “Eoghan told me this afternoon. Was I not to know?” Her legs trembled and she shivered at Rhoane’s sudden coldness.

  “This afternoon? No sooner?”

  “Just before I found you. It is what convinced me to stop letting my fears control me.”

  A strange looked crossed his face. Not anger, but a quiet resignation as if a lingering question had finally been answered. He closed the distance between them and their lips met, tentative at first, but then she pressed her body against his, kissing him, tasting him, delighting in the sensations that ran through her.

  Rhoane lifted a fraction, his eyes searching hers. “I cannot change who you are, Taryn. To me, you have always been the Darennsai. To say I love one without the other would be false. But know this—I would take the oath again this very night if you asked. I am yours, mi carae, forever. I must know, though. Is this what you truly want?”

  All her doubts—of whether she was good enough for him, whether she was strong enough to be his partner, whether she would fail—taunted her, but she shut herself off from the constant disquiet. “This is what I want. Here with you now.”

  She kissed him again, roughly, feeling his stubble scratch against her and wanting more. Wanting all of him. She tangled her fingers in his hair and melded her body to his. Strong hands roamed down her back and then up to her hair, by turns grasping a handful before smoothing it straight. Heat filled the space. The forest sounds dimmed beneath the roar of blood pumping in her ears.

  Rhoane kissed her neck just beneath her ear and a rush of desire flooded her, exquisite, maddening, all-consuming. Her toes curled with each touch of his lips trailing heat down her neck to her shoulder. His hands trembled as he fumbled with the bows securing her dress. With agonizing slowness, he slipped her gown to her waist.

  Her breath came in shallow gasps as he admired her naked breasts, his eyes dark with desire. Calloused hands gently massaged the flesh, his thumbs tracing her nipples until they hardened to marble nubs. That damned half smile crooked up his lips, making her already weak knees jerk in response.

  A dark brow arched and he lifted his gaze. “Shall I stop?”

  “Dear God no.”

  He dipped his head and took a breast in his mouth. The warmth of his tongue and scrape of his teeth rocked her. A firm hand gripped her back and his ShantiMari wrapped around them, keeping her upright.

  She moaned, arching into his power. The touch of his ShantiMari ignited sparks of pleasure all through her body. It, combined with what he was doing to her breasts, almost brought her to a climax she wasn’t ready yet to have. The sustained torment of his mouth on her skin was too good, too raw. His power subsided, leaving her gasping.

  With a last lick to her breast, he nipped gentle kisses across her abdomen. When his lips touched her scar, she flinched, but not from pain. A delicious warmth spread over her as he ran his thumb along the jagged welt. His lips lingered over the scar, his breath hot against the disfigurement. A soft tingling spread from his touch and he placed a final kiss before sliding her dress the rest of the way down her body until she stood naked before him, shy and unsure.

  When his hands went to the buttons on his tunic, she stopped him. With as much care and attention as he’d shown her, she removed his clothing, starting with his outer jerkin. His muscled torso flexed beneath the soft cotton of his tunic. Something low in her contracted and her breathing slowed. The crisp scent of apples mingled with a dark spiciness, upping her arousal to dangerous levels.

  She slid her hands under the tunic and pushed it over his abs, past his chest, and finally above his head. A smattering of hair covered a well-defined chest, but what caught her attention were the numerous scars. Some long and ragged, others clean lines, all of them ghost tattoos, evidence of a difficult life. She wanted to know the story behind each one, but not right then. There was time later to uncover their truths, right now, she still had more exploring to do.

  When she touched his skin, it warmed beneath her fingertips, causing a slight sheen to bloom beneath the surface. She leaned in, kissing the nearest scar to her, much as he’d done to her vorlock wound. The bloom deepened, spreading across his abdomen to disappear beneath his breeches.

  A growl, low and wanting, came from the depths of his throat.

  Her insides clenched at the sound. Sexy didn’t even come close to describing it. A grin tickled the edges of her mouth and she glanced up to find him watching her, a dark intensity in his mossy eyes. That look, combined with the swell of his erection pressed against her midsection, rough leather on her naked skin, made her ache with need.

  Holy hell, she was going to lose it before he was naked.

  Her shaking fingers fumbled with the ties of his pants and, once unlaced, she skimmed her hands across h
is hips, pressing the fabric over his ass until it dropped to the branches of the bower.

  Finally, he stood naked before her, his presence filling the space, his scent overwhelming her already deliriously heightened senses. Every moment he wasn’t touching her was anguish. Every inch of her longed to be caressed by him.

  With exquisite gentleness, he lifted her in his arms and placed her on the blanket. Her heart beat in her throat when he lay beside her. His erection pressed against her thigh, gorgeous and thick, and for fuck’s sake, if he didn’t make love to her soon she might have to kill him. He shifted his weight, capturing her mouth with his. Her fingertips explored his impossibly soft skin, resting over his heart and feeling there the same wild thumping as in her own chest.

  Hesitation flickered in his eyes as he beheld her face. She tilted her hips up to encourage him, and kept her gaze locked to his as he entered. A satisfied sigh of desire escaped her throat and he responded in kind. Bloody hell, why had she waited so long?

  They were a tangle of flesh, moving in unison, low cries and moans hovering momentarily before drifting away on the breeze. The interplay of passion on his face humbled her. She wanted to meld their bodies into one, to feel his pleasure as her own. A dizzying array of emotions overwhelmed her. For a single moment, the world stilled and she floated among the stars, then every nerve contracted and stars burst behind closed eyes. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as her body convulsed with spasms. It was fireworks and rainbows, Light and Dark, sunshine and moonbeams. It was warmth and love, and oh God, Rhoane inside her was perfect. She never wanted him anywhere else but there, with her.

  Rhoane cried out and his body trembled above her as his gaze locked with hers. A look of surprised relief was quickly replaced with something softer, full of love and grace and, dare she hope, want for more of the same.

  He stroked the sides of her face before resting his lips upon hers. “You are my life, Taryn ap Galendrin. Always.” It was a whispered oath heard by the gods themselves.

  “As you are mine, Rhoane ap Glennwoods. My heart is yours.”