Page 13 of Warrior Princess (Blood Weaver Trilogy #3)

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W e made good time back to the Grasslands, pushing our horses hard over the rolling plains and lush, green expanses that stretched endlessly under wide, open skies. As we approached Ronan's village, the familiar thatched roofs and smoke curling from hearths painted a welcoming picture. The air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of rain-soaked soil, a reminder of the recent showers.

Silas was there to greet us. He stood just outside Ronan’s homestead, a noticeable figure with his broad smile and an envelope clutched in his hand. As Ronan and I dismounted, Silas stepped forward to take the reins, looping them around a wooden post where troughs of fresh water and feed awaited our weary horses.

After ensuring the horses were comfortably settled in, Silas approached, his smile unwavering. “You both did it. We’re free!” he declared with a proud puff of his chest.

Ronan gave a brief nod, his face shadowed by fatigue. “For now, yes, we are. How was the news received here?”

Silas’s smile faltered. He glanced around and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Chief Aryan is beside himself. Many are talking about replacing him with you as chief.”

Ronan scoffed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s too soon to name me chief. They’re just excited about our people returning home.”

Silas gave a noncommittal shrug, then his expression brightened. “Either way, your father is not happy… Oh! I almost forgot. Leila, you received a letter from Valoria.” He extended the envelope toward me with an almost ceremonial gesture. “It arrived two days ago.”

Brimming with anticipation, I took the envelope from him and anxiously broke the seal. As I unfolded the letter, the familiar, elegant script of my father's handwriting sprawled across the page.

“My father wants to meet,” I announced after scanning the contents, a hopeful smile touching my lips. “He said the poisoning was all a misunderstanding and he knows that now. Marcellus must have convinced him. He wants to meet in the Central Plains.”

Ronan's expression turned thoughtful, and a crease formed between his brows. “Why does he want to meet in the Central Plains? Doesn’t he want you to return home?”

A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Well… he didn’t say that…”

“Are you sure that letter is from King Malik?” Ronan asked, taking the letter from my hands to examine it himself.

I nodded confidently. “It’s his handwriting.”

“He wants to meet in Lomewood in five days’ time. Are you okay with that?” Ronan’s tone was cautious, protective.

“Yes. I can go—”

“No!” he cut in, his voice firm. “ We can go. I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again.”

Part of me wanted to insist on my independence and reassure him that I could handle meeting my father alone in neutral territory. But after the harrowing events in Keldara, I understood his concern, and honestly, his support was not unwelcome.

I smiled warmly, touched by his steadfastness. “Of course. We can go,” I agreed, feeling a deep, comforting sense of partnership.

Ronan placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before taking my hand. “Let’s get cleaned up and rest for a bit. It’s been a trying few days.”

Silas dipped his head before leaving, promising to notify us if he heard anything else.

After soaking in a warm bath and slipping into fresh clothes, I restlessly wandered around Ronan's bedroom. The comforting scent of the cedar walls mingled with the faint smell of lavender from the linens, creating a soothing atmosphere that felt worlds away from the turmoil we had just escaped. Despite this tranquility, a persistent self-consciousness nagged at me. I habitually covered the scar on my neck—a harsh reminder of what Chief Aryan did almost two weeks ago. Normally, I kept it concealed beneath a scarf, but here, in the privacy of Ronan's quarters, I allowed myself the freedom to leave it exposed.

Exhausted yet relieved, I fell onto Ronan’s bed, the mattress yielding softly under my weight, and sprawled out, sinking into the pillows and releasing a relieved sigh. For the first time in what felt like ages, I allowed myself to relax. The immediate threats were behind us—the Crimson Clan was free and my father's misunderstanding about Ronan was cleared up. The only lingering concern was Caelan, whose silence since my departure from Valoria was unnervingly out of character. I could only hope and pray that Marcellus had everything under control, including keeping Henry and Selene safe.

“What are you thinking about?” Ronan’s voice broke through my reverie. He stood in the doorway toweling his hair dry, his muscles subtly outlined beneath the fabric of his damp shirt.

“Everything seems… perfect. Like the goddess herself has paved our way. But I’m worried.” I turned over to lie on my stomach, propping myself up on my elbows to better see him.

“About Caelan?” Ronan guessed, his jaw tightening at the mention of the Eldwain prince.

“Yes,” I admitted, watching as Ronan moved closer, his presence commanding yet comforting. “His silence worries me.”

Ronan climbed onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress as he sat beside me. He reached out to gently brush a damp lock of hair from my face, his touch tender yet filled with latent strength. “You have nothing to fear, Leila. I’m with you every step of the way,” he reassured me, his voice low and resolute.

I understood his protectiveness, and part of me reveled in the safety it offered. Yet, I knew we both had our vulnerabilities, and I was determined not to be solely dependent on him for my security. “I know you will be.” I believed him; I truly did. But if what happened between me and his father was any indication, Ronan was not invincible, and even he could be bested at times. Another reason I needed to seek out Shiro as soon as possible.

Ronan’s eyes searched mine, looking for unspoken fears. Then, leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. His calloused hands cradled my face, and the fingers threading through my hair with delicate strength sent a thrill through me.

“Do you trust me, Leila?” he whispered against my lips, his warm breath stirring a flutter in my heart.

“I do,” I replied without hesitation, my hand reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. “Always.”

His kiss deepened, and the world outside faded into insignificance as we lost ourselves in each other, reaffirming our bond that had been tested by trials but strengthened by unwavering loyalty and love. In that moment, within the safety of Ronan's room, all uncertainties about the future were momentarily forgotten, overshadowed by the profound connection we shared.

Flipping me onto my back, Ronan climbed over me, trailing his hand over my body as he lifted my leg and wrapped it around him. I felt him hardened between my legs and moaned loudly as I raked my nails down his back.

“Ronan,” I whimpered, wanting to feel more, so much more.

He tore at my dress until my breasts were exposed and his mouth found my nipple. He sucked, licked and bit until I screamed his name. Pulling up the skirt of my dress until it was bunched at my waist, he reached a hand toward my entrance. Slipping two fingers in, he groaned and buried his face between my breasts. “Gods, you’re so wet, Leila.” He slid his fingers in and out of me. “You feel so good,” he murmured against my skin. “I don’t think I can hold out.”

Before I knew it, his fingers were gone and he was hurriedly unbuttoning his trousers. When they were halfway down his thighs, his erection was freed and I hungrily reached for it and stroked his throbbing cock.

He moaned even louder. “Leila,” he groaned, “I don’t want to cum. Not yet.”

He flipped me onto my stomach, gripped my hips, and lifted them off the bed. I assumed he was about to take me from behind until I felt his wet mouth on my heat.

I shrieked his name as his tongue flicked my nub and sucked all my juices. He inserted one finger and then two as his mouth continued to devour my core. I teetered on the edge of release as his fingers pumped in and out of me faster and faster. I gasped for air, begging him not to stop. “I can’t…” I stuttered. “Please, Ronan, I can’t take—”

I felt him grinning between my folds. “Yes, you can.”

I tipped over the edge and my body was wracked with tremors that left me seeing stars, compounded when he sucked on my nub and I cried out. He finally released me and I felt his length on my backside as he entered me from behind.

Ronan slowly pumped in and out, kissing all along my back. Once I caught my breath, he began to pound into me relentlessly, reaching places I never knew existed and delivering more pleasure than I ever thought possible. The room echoed with the sounds of slapping skin, along with my loud screams and moans.

“Harder!” I begged. “Faster.”

Ronan graciously obliged, forcing me to grip the bed frame to stay on my knees.

He moaned my name and clamped down onto my hips, digging his fingers into my flesh. “I’m coming!” Seconds later, he filled me and slowed his punishing pace as I tipped over the edge again, this time with him.

Still inside me, he tenderly lifted my chin and brought my back flat against his chest, peppering my neck and shoulder with kisses. “Gods, I love you, Leila,” he murmured into my ear.

Gasping for breath, I wrapped my hand over his. “I love you too, Ronan.”

If he knew just how much, I wondered if it would scare him. Because in that moment, even I feared how much I loved Ronan. If something ever happened to him, I didn’t know how I could go on.