Page 124 of Thorns and Echoes

She wanted to pull him to her bed as she had that day, demanding he make good on his threats if he was going to tease a Queen. And he had – his kisses and touches so gentle she thought he might never give her relief no matter how much she begged. Every time he had seemed to lose control of himself – a kiss that stroked her tongue and arched her back, his hot breath blowing over her nipples, his mouth straying so, so close to the apex of her legs – he backed away and returned to taunting,terrible, delightful glancing touches that finally had her tearing the strip of cloth around her wrists and flipping him onto his back, driving herself down onto his cock as the smirk on his lips told her that she might be the Queen, but she had lost, again, and she would lose every night. Gladly.

She doubted he wanted to be treated as a courtesan right now. She couldn't look at him without admiring the dark depths of his eyes, the curve of his full lips, and the defined lines of his jaw. He was beautiful. She wished she could give him the distance that he wanted.

But more than anything, she wanted to wake with him beside her, to stroll in the gardens and watch his head turn toward the sun, to fall asleep to the warmth of his body curled around her. Nothing else. Just his presence.

The distance hurt. The inability to be the comfort for him that he was to her hurt more.

“Did the wall do something to offend you?” His voice teased her to the present. “Or is that how you normally sharpen your claws?”

Scratches marked the stone. Anais dropped her hand.

Castien strode down the hall, leathers hugging his muscles, dagger strapped to his side. A lopsided smile decorated his lips. Almost normal.

In this dance, she could only follow. “Vern gave my mother a tree once. It appeared on the balcony one day, and she thought it was for shade. He also often left her favorite pastry on the balcony.” She lifted a hand and curved her claws, examining them. “A moon later, she threw out the tree. I’m surprised it took that long.”

His eyes gleamed. “I had no idea he has a sense of humor.”

He had come to a stop a few feet away. Too far to touch.

“It’s usually much sharper,” she said.

He glanced behind her, his smile fading. His posture straightened.

She smoothed her expression. “Zara has been reported contacting soldiers in River Glen. We should leave immediately.”

Two other figures in black followed her out of the wing. At the gates, they were joined by squads of soldiers.

The sun wasn't shining when they rode out of the city.

—

“Down, my Queen!”

The soldier who shouted that warning raised his shield above her head just in time to catch the thunk of an arrow. He grunted and yanked his horse to cut off hers.

On her other side, Jerome’s sword sliced clean through another arrow. “Alley to the left, my Queen,” he said quickly but calmly.

They hurried toward the cover of the buildings. One of the horses squealed – an arrow had found it. Half of her soldiers split off into a different alley.

They dismounted, the horses too large to maneuver in the cramped space. She was glad to find Castien between Thakris and a soldier. To the assassin, she asked, “How many archers?”

“Two dozen. Half atop the buildings, the remaining in the manor further ahead. I estimate a hundred hostiles in all.”

The Queen nodded. She had counted the same. They were well-equipped with chainmail and leather armor. The hostiles weren't rebels, slavers, or a random gathering of discontented villagers. They were soldiers.

Jerome peered around the corner, glaring as if the soldiers had personally offended him. He would have argued for a battalion if he had expected a show of force. None of them had.A lone woman was no threat. Even thirty tranced women, as unlikely as that was, wouldn’t have been a problem.

Only a few of these soldiers were female. Anais glanced over her shoulder at Castien. He shook his head. He recognized none of them.

They had traveled toward the village on the main road. As they had approached the surrounding farmland, a young woman had taken a pony and dashed off into the village.

Their greeting upon the quiet streets had been a few warning arrows. Someone had called for them to turn away, declaring this village free from royal influence.

The Queen announced her presence. The next round of arrows had been aimed to kill.

She drew her sword. “We need to get closer. Shields up. Horses will go first. Then we run.”

They didn't have archers. A lecture from her mother about a lack of preparation hovered in a corner of her mind.A bit late now, Jana.