The Time Weaver

It was arousing. It was to acknowledge a deep, dark splinter of vulnerability, somehow wedged in his soul. It was to become too easily entranced with the play of light over her soft skin, all kinds of light. To fight his constant compulsion for her touch. To dream of her eyes and lips during hard, restless nights.

To hunger.

His instincts howled at him to bind her to him now, to claim her in truth. If she was ice then by God she would melt; what came after that, he did not know, but it seemed to loom beautiful and wild at the brimming edge of his imagination, just beyond reach.

When Alexandru spoke again, it was barely a whisper.

'Are you certain this is what you want?'

'My prince. This is what I've crossed time itself for. Over and over, for you.' She lifted her head, her face all in shadow, ghost and ice and dark winter eyes. 'For you.'

He kissed her. It wasn't like before, in the tower, when he'd tried to be soft about it and instead had been helplessly aflame. He wasn't attempting softness any longer; he was the flame, and when her arms encircled his shoulders he only pulled her closer, thawing her body with his heat.

He felt her lips part, and that fed the scorching in his blood. She returned his kiss with an ardor that was anything but cool.

Because the winter still has the sun, he thought dizzily. A flush of color, and light brighter than diamonds across the snow.

He was beyond combing through his thoughts for sense; she was the snow and the sun, the ice and the flame. He was weight atop her in the bed, the dragon only just holding on to his skin; the man who buried his face against her neck to find her flavor there, that pulse in her throat that excited him in the blackest way, deep in his groin. He kissed her, he licked a path up to her ear and inhaled her again, and all the while his hands were finding the shape of her, the smooth, firm chill of her arms, the dip of her waist. The shift crumpled in his grip, the paper-cloth tugged higher and higher until he rolled off her to remove it completely.

She didn't rise to help. She only arched her back into a pretty bow and stretched her arms hard, and when it caught against her hair she collapsed down again, smiling.

He thought she might be smiling. Everything was shadowed, like a veil across his eyes, a sheen of desire and animal lust. She fisted a hand in his hair and pulled him down to her. Her kiss was a bite, and Sandu knew then that the smile had been more a baring of her teeth, a distinctly feminine dare.

For an instant her eyes flashed cobalt in the dark, her own dragon rising.

He didn't wait to disrobe. He yanked at the waist of the foreign breeches they'd given him, freed himself of the wool. She took his weight again with her legs spread and he came upon her in his borrowed shirt and shoes and that unclothed part of him, rigid and searching, a rapid thrust deep into her center, and Honor accepted his dominion with a hiss in her throat.

He pushed his tongue past her lips the way he pushed into her below. He felt the buildup like a Turn scarcely restrained, bone-deep and clawing into him. He thought he should stop or slow but the dragon had control, and the dragon wanted more of her, pressed harder into her, exalted in her silken wet heat—and yes, she was hot at last, hotter than he, in that place of their joining, and it felt so—good—she was life and good and burned him up—

Sandu moaned, his mouth to hers, her breasts crushed against his shirt, her nipples hard as pebbles. She dug her nails into his back and lifted her legs to cross her ankles at his waist. He went even deeper then, lost all sense of air with it, but incredibly he managed to do it again, and again, shoving into her with such force the bed shook.

'Amant,' she whispered, and arched her back again with a breathless cry. Her climax wrung through him; he dragged his lips from hers and let it consume every inch of him, and while she still shuddered and trembled beneath him he came too, an explosion of pleasure so powerful he had to turn his face away, to gasp for air or perish in this terrible, rolling dark bliss.

Honor closed her teeth on his bared throat. Her nails never unclenched from his back.

We sat together outside on a blanket on the roof. The rain was done and the tiles were already releasing their tiny curls of steam as they dried. The storm had cleansed everything, all the sand and dust and dirt of the town washed away, leaving only what shone fresh and new.

I was a part of that. I was fresh and new.

Above us burned that black well of stars I'd first ever seen with Lia. They tinseled Sandu's hair, cast the shadows of the rooftops and spires surrounding us in edged relief.

'I've been thinking ...' said the prince, easing back to rest on his elbows beside me.

'Yes?'

'If you return with me to Zaharen Yce, we might disguise you a bit. If that's all right with you.' 'What did you have in mind?'

'Nothing elaborate. We'd have to maintain whatever it was for your entire time there, so simple is always better. I thought, perhaps, merely a different name.'

I looked at him. Smiled.

He sent me a sideways smile back. 'How about ... Rez? It's a good girl's name. Elegant. Strong.'

'I like it,' I said, and leaned over to kiss him again.

Chapter Seventeen

I've met someone. A man. Adrakon, I mean.

Oh?

A prince, actually. I...he's...he's really quite wonderful. In fact, I love him. So much.

Another cup, my dear?

What? No. No, thank you. Did you hear me, Papa? I've found my mate. It's Alexandru of the Zaharen. We're engaged.

Ah.

I live in his castle . we have a little .

Yes.

...you'll be so ...pleased...she's—

—Lia would toss in her sleep, frowning—

Tell us the truth, Honor. Tell me. Are you involved somehow with thesanf inimicus?

... mmm ...

Honor! Tell me!

—Her heart rate would increase. Behind her closed lids, her pupils would begin to dilate— I'm sorry. It will be swift. But it's best if you go now.

—Her blood would be changing, chemical changes. The magic in her, the animal, would be heating every cell. Her fingers would clench her sheets—

No, no, I don't want this. I've changed my mind, I don't agree to this! Let go of me—he's here! My lord! My lord, I beg you! What happened? Tell me what happened! Tell me what you did to

my—

Nothing happened, Josephine. Before I could touch her, she Wove away. Even in hersleep,she Wove away.

God help us.

No, Gervase. We won't wait for God.

—Lia would open her eyes, gasping, and lose control—

Her dreams had begun to twist out of shape.