The Rose of Shanhasson Read online

  He let a wide, confident smile spread across his face. “Indeed, I’m counting on it. Now let me draw some very sweet music from your lips.”

  Her mouth clamped shut and her jaw tightened.

  Shaking his head, he trailed his fingers across the tender skin of her lower abdomen. “You challenge me again, na’lanna. Think you I cannot make you scream with pleasure?”

  “Not with an audience,” she ground out.

  “Ah, but on the Plains, we shall camp in the center of hundreds of tents. The Blood share my tent with me, and often we share with guests. Think you I cannot make you forget them as well?”

  Her appalled expression made him laugh out loud. “Never. It’s indecent!”

  “Well, I’m merely a barbarian after all. Perhaps I shall only make you scream once this night to help break you of this unfortunate reticence.”

  “Twice, Khul.”

  The low voice came from the shadows a few feet away. Shannari jerked with alarm at the Blood’s nearness.

  “Aye, Gregar, I accept your challenge. Now, see what you’ve done, Shannari? You must scream twice this night or I shall owe another challenge loss to my Blood.” He leaned closer, deliberately breathing on her flesh, but she was tense, closed, trying to push him away where moments before she’d tried to pull him closer.

  Raising his gaze, he stared into her face. “Tell me no and I’ll roll over and go to sleep.”

  “I’m not saying no, but can’t we be… quieter?”

  Grinning, he sat up and whispered, “Aye, you can try. Do you want me to stop?”She bit her lip, thinking, and finally shook her head. When he shackled her ankle and lifted her foot toward his mouth, she glared at him. He tickled the sole of her foot with his tongue, and she muttered a curse beneath her breath.

  Nibbling his way up her leg, he licked and kissed the back of her knee until her legs lay completely open to him once more. Up past her knee, nipping as he went, until he traced the crease of her inner thigh with his tongue.

  A muffled cry escaped her lips. Amused, he noted that she released his hair to press her hand over her mouth. Next time, he must remember to give her something to hold so she would forget about quieting her cries.

  He kissed and licked a path up over her pelvic bone, across her belly, and back down the other side. So hot, so ready, he could smell her desire, feel her muscles trembling with longing. He felt her rising need through the bond, the spreading ache deep inside. Her scent spiced, blazing like humid summer nights.

  She cursed again, low and raw, her hips lifting in invitation.

  “Not yet, my heart, not yet.” Sitting back up, he turned his attention to her other foot, dragging his head back and forth to trail his hair across her skin as he kissed her.

  The bond screamed at him, while she remained silent except for the rare strangled cry. Fighting his own desire, he lingered at her thigh. He opened his mouth wide to take as much muscle and skin as his mouth could hold, gripping her firmly with his jaws. He left teeth marks in her skin, so he licked them away, soothing the sting.

  Her scrambling fingers found his hair again, jerking his head higher. “Don’t— don’t make me— beg. Oh, bloody hell.”

  He slid his palms beneath her, tilting her hips upward, yet he refused to move his mouth higher. “Louder, Shannari. You must be louder or I’ll lose the challenge.”

  Restless, she twisted her hips, desperate to urge him onward. He was more than happy to oblige, sliding a finger deep into her. Clenching his jaw, he fought back his own urges. To thrust as hard and deep as he could, imprinting himself on her for all time. To flip her over and take her like a stallion takes a mare, all domination, teeth and hooves.

  Her pride would be the death of him.

  * * * *

  Blessed Lady above. The barbarian was just as devastatingly skilled as she’d feared.

  His mouth. He wouldn’t stop tormenting her, using teeth, tongue, lips to obliterate her will, her thoughts, her pride. She couldn’t think beyond the thundering need roaring in her body.

  Silken hair trailed across her thighs, tangled in her hands. His unbelievably broad shoulders spread her thighs further apart, his rugged hands gripping her hips, dragging her to just the right position. His breath, so hot against her skin.

  So close, but so far away.

  Lady, she’d never felt such need before. Such agonizing pleasure. Aching emptiness ate a black hole in her defenses until she couldn’t bear it any longer.

  “Please!”

  Immediately, he set his mouth on her, sliding his tongue deep and dragging it the full length of her. Shannari pressed the heel of her hand against her mouth, fighting back her cries. She knew the Blood were nearby, knew it should horrify her, knew she should shove the barbarian off her and demand some privacy. Somehow, though, she couldn’t make herself care.

  Licking. His tongue swirling flat, dragging over every sensitive, swollen inch. Sucking. Drawing her flesh into the heat of his mouth. Biting. Teeth raking back and forth, followed by his tongue to soothe and tease.

  Not to mention his fingers. First one, then two, filling her up, stroking inside while he tormented her with his mouth. She tasted blood, felt pain in her hand, and finally let the cry escape even as the climax reduced her to a trembling, moaning wreck.

  He wrung every sound possible from her, drawing out the contractions pulsing through her until she wound her hands tighter in his hair and finally yanked his mouth away. Even then, he came up her body slowly, nipping and kissing his way from her stomach, to her breasts.

  To the scar on her chest.

  Something speared through her from his mouth, through that hateful scar, straight to her heart.

  “Thank you, Shannari.” He joined their bodies in one smooth, slow thrust. In, in, so slow, until she was so full it was almost pain, almost too much. Then he withdrew just as slowly.

  After tormenting her for so long, how could he be so casually controlled now? She expected a wild, rutting, fully aroused barbarian, not this tender, slow, merciless attack. The savage sounds shredding her throat sounded more barbaric than anything he did or said. She tried to tell him to hurry, she needed more, so much more. But all that came out was “harder!” Mixed with more appallingly loud, embarrassingly pleading cries.

  “Louder, na’lanna.” He plunged deeper, harder as she asked, and Lady help her, she cried out louder just as he demanded. “Make sure all my warriors hear you.”

  His scent enveloped her, sweet hay, baking bread, and warrior. So much warrior. She ran her hands up and down his corded arms and shoulders, his chest, the flat planes of his stomach. He was built like a god of war, all rock-hard muscle and satin skin begging for her hands. How she’d love to lay this man out and explore his magnificent body at her leisure.

  “Any night, my heart. My body is yours, however you wish.” Nuzzling her neck, he found the bite he had given her the previous night. His tongue stroked over that strangely sensitive mark in time with his thrusts and a surge of heat pulsed through her body. Too much, by the Lady’s Moon, it was too much to bear.

  And then his teeth dragged across her skin. Clawing his back, she clamped her jaw hard to keep the scream from roaring out of her throat. He didn’t have to bite her again; just the memory was enough while he touched that spot.

  His scent deepened with complexity, spiced by his blood. She knew the taste of that blood, now, the scent, and it worsened her desire to a fevered pitch.

  “Aye,” he growled, raking his teeth up her neck to her ear. “Bleed me. Bite me to suppress your cries instead of your hand.”

  His scent smoked hotter, a tremor shook his body against hers, and a powerful wave of raw lust flooded her. Not hers, his. The bond. He truly did want her to hurt him.

  One big hand slid down her flank to draw her leg up higher against him, even while he lowered his chest more fully against her, giving her more of his weight. “You can’t hurt me, Shannari. On my honor, I love it.”

  She rubbed
her face against the velvety skin of his shoulder, and a tremor shook his body. She brushed her lips against him, and his breathing quickened. Just a hint of teeth, and his phenomenal control cracked. He slammed against her, filling her to the hilt, body flexing, growl rumbling through him.

  Scream with pleasure, or bite him and hope a mouthful of muscle stifled her cries. Those were her options. Digging her fingernails into his lower back, she sank her teeth deep into the muscle running across the top of his shoulder.

  His massive arms and shoulders bunched, his body heaved, and he uttered a single raw, guttural word.

  “Mine!”

  She didn’t dare bite him hard enough to taste blood, not after her past experience. Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t have hurt her own eardrums. She barely caught her breath, and he was rolling over and dragging her up onto his chest. His big hands smoothed her hair, cuddling her close.

  Despite the pleasure still humming in her veins, her stomach fluttered, all hollow and nervous. “I can’t sleep like this.”

  “Of course you can,” he answered easily. “You’re on top. I’m not pinning you in any way. There’s no danger. All nine Blood will die before anyone gets through them.”

  Shifting on him, she tried to find a comfortable spot that didn’t have her sprawled all over his incredible body. She failed. She couldn’t possibly relax enough to fall asleep like this.

  His powerful hands slid down her back, so gentle. His scent soaked into her. His body heated hers better than any blanket.

  “Sweet dreams, na’lanna.”

  He fell asleep almost immediately. Listening to the steady, strong beat of his heart, she stared up at the waning moon. She tried to soak in some of the Lady’s peace, but her thoughts tangled helplessly. She felt vulnerable, shaken, and not simply because of the lack of clothing. With her sword forgotten on the bank of the pool, she didn’t have a weapon. There weren’t any walls or castles or soldiers to keep the assassins at bay. When had she ever lost her mind so completely that she’d left her sword unattended and out of reach?

  Something darker than the night rustled, drawing her attention a few feet to the left. Her sword slid across the grass, a white gleam in the moonlight, close enough. Gregar, she thought, the deadly Blood who used to be a Death Rider. Surely an assassin would be a better guard than simple stone walls. At least she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill.

  She hadn’t realized how truly near the Blood sat. Fire blazed across her cheeks and she turned her face away. Her stomach pitched queasily and she tried to slip out of Rhaekhar’s arms.

  Murmuring, he slid a hand into her hair to hold her close, his fingers gentle even in his sleep. His rich scent filled her nose. Why did he have to smell so good? Breathing sweet hay and roasting grains, she felt the knots in her stomach loosen bit by bit.

  Out here in the wilderness, far from the constant demands of politics and duty, she could almost relax. She could almost let herself believe she would be safe and happy with this barbarian. She could almost let herself love him.

  A very dangerous trap. The scar on her heart twinged, a constant reminder of how love could be used against her.

  As she drifted off to sleep, the moon sank behind a darkening bank of clouds.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Theo threw himself flat on the massive bed. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. The woman he hated. The Princess his grandfather would force him to wed.

  The woman he lusted for like no other.

  Bunching his pillow beneath his head, he tried to fall asleep. But as soon as he closed his eyes, he saw her. Flawless, ivory skin gleaming with the pearly light of the Lady’s Moon. Heavy black hair hanging down her back. Midnight blue eyes flashing with disdain and pride.

  Silk sheets stroked his naked flesh, inflaming him more.

  “Shannari.”

  * * * *

  Theo opened the heavy oaken door and lust blazed through his body. She was bent over a rough, stained altar. Her hands were chained to the wall, stretching her feminine but muscled body in a fine line. Spread-eagled, her ankles were chained to the floor, completely exposing her for a variety of vile acts. All of which he dreamed of doing to her for a very long time.

  Her heavy black hair hung down her back, clothing her like a velvet mantle. He pushed that luxurious hair aside, and her bare skin gleamed, smooth and unmarred.

  I CAN GIVE HER TO YOU.

  He looked around the room, startled. No one was there. “She’s already mine.”

  THEN WHY IS SHE WITH THE HORSE SPAWN? WHY IS IT HE INSTEAD OF YOU WHO TOUCHES HER GLEAMING WHITE SKIN?

  Rage unexpectedly roared through him, leaving him shaking and breathing hard. She was his fiancée! His! His to ruin! “What do you want?”

  YOUR FAVORITE TOY THIRSTS FOR PERFECT SKIN. LET ME SEE WHAT YOUR DARKEST, MOST SECRET DESIRE WILL DO TO THIS WOMAN WHEN SHE IS YOURS.

  He reached out and took the wicked nine-tailed whip from the wall, lovingly trailing the leather straps through his hand. She whimpered softly, begging and weeping. Her fear pleased him.

  Gently, he flicked the leather straps against her skin. Only a warning, a promise. The cat-o’-nine-tails didn’t even redden her skin. Not yet. But she strained violently at the chains, struggling until her wrists were bloody.

  He ran his free hand down that smooth, slender back. Her skin was unbelievably soft and fine, supple and warm like living silk. She struggled harder, panicky animal-like sounds tearing from her throat. Her midnight blue eyes flashed up at him wildly, shining with fear. Fear of him.

  Power pulsed through his body, raw and violent and dark. Smiling, he struck her beautiful back viciously and the leather bit into that perfect skin.

  She screamed and screamed and screamed until her voice was ragged and hoarse. Delicate tracings of blood dripped down her back, down her luscious buttocks, dripping in fine lines down her thighs like gossamer spider webs of blood.

  He smeared his hand in her blood, delighting in her pain and fear. Lady, he was so hard, so completely aroused, and he’d only just begun! How many times could he find pleasure in her torture before raping her?

  YOU MAY DO ANYTHING YOU WISH TO HER. YOU MAY KEEP HER AS YOUR TOY FOR AS LONG AS YOU DESIRE HER. BUT THEN, I REQUIRE HER DEATH. I WANT HER BLOOD SPILLED ON THE GREAT SEAL ABOVE AS SHE TAKES HER LAST BREATH. THAT IS ALL. GIVE ME HER SACRIFICE AFTER YOU TIRE OF HER. THEN I WILL REWARD YOU IN WAYS YOU HAVE NOT EVEN DREAMED.

  YOU WILL RULE THE GREEN LANDS FOREVER.

  His breath caught in his throat. Forever? He could be High King forever; never have to share that power with her? He could torture her, ruin her, and then have the pleasure of killing her too? Without repercussion? He looked at her, dripping with blood, screaming with terror.

  He’d do anything to have her like this. “Who are you?”

  I AM LORD OF ALL THAT IS DARK

  I AM THE ENDLESS NIGHT, THE DEATH OF MORNING.

  I AM THE NEVERENDING WINTER THAT BUTCHERS THE FRAGILE HOPE OF NEW SPRING.

  I AM THE SHADOW OF DEATH THAT POISONS THE HEART OF EVERY MAN.

  I AM HATE, LUST, VIOLENCE, TORTURE, DEATH.

  I AM THE BLACKEST HEART OF DARKNESS.

  KNEEL HERE AT MY ALTAR, SWEAR TO KILL THIS WOMAN FOR ME, AND YOU SHALL HAVE YOUR MOST SECRET DESIRE.

  Theo tugged on his prince’s lock, jerking his head slightly. His knees trembled, weakening, and he fell before the altar heavily. Shannari chained for his torture or the High Throne forever? Which did he want the most? “What would you have me do?”

  IT IS TIME FOR A NEW HIGH KING TO RULE THE GREEN LANDS.

  * * * *

  Theo jerked awake, panting, struggling against the tangled sweaty sheets. A dream, only a dream.

  But what exhilarating possibilities.

  He wearied of Stephan’s endless maneuverings, his interest in Allandor and Shannari herself. Theo didn’t need either Stephan or Shannari to rule the Green Lands. Not if Rikard died while Stephan and S
hannari were away from Shanhasson.

  It wouldn’t be easy. The old fool was terrified of assassination. Nothing passed his lips that hadn’t been tasted by another. He had weaknesses though. Weaknesses only Theo knew. Because he shared them.

  Shivering in the darkness, he sat up and hugged his knees to his chest. He waited to feel guilt or even fear, but he felt nothing but anticipation.

  It’s not like I haven’t killed before.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Locked away in darkness, Shannari found herself in a prison cell barely large enough for her to pace a few steps in either direction. Cold, dank air clung to her skin like greasy oil, and the smell… Rotten and dead and foul. Shadows oozed with thick power as if the light of the sun never touched these depths.

  She knew this nightmare.

  The cell door swung open, screeching in agony. Outside, more suffocating shadows waited, hungry, cold, writhing with glee and hatred.

  Something hit her back. Cold stone. Heart racing, she realized she’d stumbled back against the wall as far away from the door as possible.

  Where else could she go? What choice did she have? She knew what waited outside. The greatest evil the world had ever known waited for her. He was always there, waiting for her to slip or weaken.

  She reached for her sword, but it was gone. In fact, she was naked. Pain seared her back, as if strips of flesh had been torn away. Naked, unarmed, injured, and alone.

  “Lady, help me!”

  Nothing. No melodious voice promising salvation, no wellspring of power, no light, no hope. Only cold emptiness and black shadows.

  Laughing with despair, she drew herself upright and slipped through the waiting door. She refused to cower, no matter what waited ahead. She certainly couldn’t run. Not from her destiny. Not from the darkness already eating away inside her.

  Following the stench, she crept down the dark tunnel as quietly as possible. A light flickered ahead, drawing her forward. Shadow and flame-light writhed on the stone, revealing a heavy oaken door locked by ancient chains as thick as her thighs.