for her so called partner, Cat’s trust had to be earned, not offered willy-nilly to a pretty boy
just because he had fallen at her feet in abject fear.
“Please Drusal… Don’t make fun of me. What power I have is untried, haphazard at best.
My emotional state leads me into a maze of flickering ideas I grab onto, to use as a blunt
instrument.” Cat wailed pathetically.
Drusal raised his head slowly. Copper swirls marked his irises in dark whirls.
“More reason to learn who and what you are Iscatya.” Gripping her hands, he dragged Cat
to her feet. “Let us take the lesson outside. I need the earth beneath my feet to strengthen
my soul.” Raising the fingers of his right hand to head and heart, his smile was unashamedly
inviting. “First my mate, you will learn how to greet thy peers.”
Bemused by the turnaround of his mood, Cat allowed Drusal to pull her out onto the lawn,
bare toes curling into the sweet grass, her heart began to beat with the rhythm of the earth,
a timeless stroke that soothed the nagging doubts about the Dark Hound’s ulterior motives.
Whatever he could teach her of a Sidhe heritage, added ammunition to a growing arsenal,
ready and waiting for the day she would have to face the Queen of the Sovereign Isles.
A maternal grandmother had a lot to answer for, not least the death sentence hanging
over the heads of her parents. For all she knew they may have already have been coldly
despatched to the next plain of existence. It made no difference to a heart aching for the
love of her Mother and Father, Istirina would ultimately pay for dividing a child from the
love and protection of her immediate kin.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Show me again Drusal… I have to get this right.” Impatient at her inability to absorb the
lessons of deference , Cat snarled at him in frustration. His body, a magnificent physique
that played havoc with the butterflies in her stomach was the distraction in her mind.
She really needed Jarl’s endlessly calm composure to lead her through the many forms of
court greeting. At least with her grandfather she wouldn’t be drooling like a love struck
teenager, her mind engaged, instead of raging hormones. “Stop… Just teach me the most
important flourishes. As the Queens heir, I don’t have to address every level of the Court.”
Chewing at her lip, common sense smacked her on the back of the head.
“Teach me the deference used by Royalty, not the ones used by the lower echelons.”
Stepping back from Drusal she offered him a greeting, fingers of right hand raised to touch
her forehead lightly, to swing gracefully away from her head in a wide arc.
“That’s the way I greet an equal. Yes…?” Hazel eyes scanned his face ready for a scathing
rebuttal of her form. A sharp nod of assent made her glow with pride. “Ok one down…”
Touching fingers to head and then heart she smiled slyly. “I greet my loved ones this way?”
With a tilt of her head, she waited patiently for Drusal to commit to greeting her in a similar
manner this morning.
“You know this is so, I have repeated the greeting for you several times.” His tone was waspish,
long legs planted wide, feet gripping at the earth, he dared her to go further with annoying
and vapid questioning. “Why do you make this move so often?”
A low growl wove through her head, tickling her senses with a wave of frustrated desire.
“No reason Fur ball, I just want to make sure I know what I am doing.” Right now, she was
driving him insane with incessant teasing, questions. With a wicked grin, Cat moved on to the
last greeting she was prepared to offer today. Touching the fingers of both hands to forehead
and heart she then spread her arms wide with a deep bow.
“This greeting offers my allegiance, protection and love to all those assembled?” Her heart
raced at the exultation on his face
“Aye… That was well done Iscatya, I could do no better.” He reached out to tug at her braid
a warm smile softening the hardness of his jaw.
“Can we eat now? My body is wilting from lack of sustenance.” Eyes creased against the glare
of a midday sun, Drusal’s stomach rumbled loudly.
“I forgot that I have to keep on feeding your earth element.” Lost in the intricacies of Court
etiquette, it had slipped her mind how much she had sapped his strength in a vicious attack on
a Sidhe spirit. Restitution had to be made, in the form of food, enough to make him feel whole.
Hiding the smile her remorse provoked, Drusal stalked after a lithe female into the house.
The instant she had realised the lessons he was teaching were immaterial to Royalty, was the
moment the Princessin’s learning had truly begun. Iscatya had no equal in strength and power,
but for the Queen. She embodied the pinnacle of Royalty, a humble being with the weight of
great Sires bolstering all that she could become. His loathing for the Queen was a present and
pervasive canker that had to be overcome if he wanted any solace for the loss of a father he
adored. Using a wealth of knowledge, to teach Iscatya how to protect herself in a realm
governed by pain and madness was a lesson in self-control he was unaccustomed to.
The stir fry of vegetables and fresh fish Cat heaped on his plate was eaten with nimble fingers.
Watching her nibble on the smallest piece of baby corn, filled Drusal with sudden concern that
the female had damaged her body in exploring the power of her heritage.
“Why do you not eat more?” Brandishing a flake salmon in her face he teased Cat to take a
bite of a succulent delicacy. With a shake of her head, she eased away from the table.
“I’m too busy thinking Lord Vardon… I have an idea that may allay Grandmothers suspicions
for a while.” She planted her elbows back on the table, absorbing the meagre earth element
from the soft grain of the wood. “When were you last at Court?”
Hazel eyes cloudy, thoughts in turmoil Cat moved food around her plate with the tip of one
finger, lost in a convoluted plan to gain more time to improve her skills, talents, curses…
“The same day I found you in thy place of work…” He answered her without hesitation.
Eyes narrowed to green slits, she scanned his face. The answer to her next question had
already formed in her mind. “How have you spent your time since then?” Her murmur came
out sharp edged, with ill-concealed accusation.
“Watching over my mate…” The deep voiced avowal came as no shock.
“Stalking me you mean.” Taking a bite of tender fish, she dared Drusal to repudiate a bald
statement of intent.
“Yes… I was staking my claim. In doing so, my reputation as a hunter gave you a measure of
protection. There are creatures from many dimensions willing to abduct or kill you, to cause
your Grandmother grief.” A wry grin curled his lip. “I do not believe the Queen would grieve
for long…” Pearlescent grey eyes glowed with unabashed sincerity. Drusal told the absolute
truth, no evasion or prevarication. Iscatya had the right to know her life was threatened.
“My shields kept you at bay…” Cat’s smile was hesitant. Fear that the barrier she had built
may be permeable to creatures from another dimension increased her pulse rate, sent a shiver
o
f fear down her back.
“Will the shield stop all incursions, or are only the Fae restricted from entry?” Any appetite
she had was lost. Acid crept up her throat in a rush of nausea.
“I know not… Thy spells are more powerful than any I have witnessed. I would fall in favour
of a blanket shield.” The mellow comfort of his voice put to bed the worst of her fears.
Shrugging off nausea, Cat returned to the previous conversation, no sign of anxiety at the
threat to her life showed on the delicate curves of her face.
“Grandmother has no clue as to what we have done, or rather not done. Right….?” The fork
in her hand wove an intricate pattern in the air.
“She has no access to my thoughts, only those I choose to let her see, if that is the answer
you are seeking.” Drusal waited with some impatience for his female to finish the thread
of a plan forming in her head.
“We have to offer enough of the truth to gain time for me to access and learn to control
the power unfolding in my head.” Eyes wide with apprehension at the mere thought of
wielding any more chaos, Cat nearly choked on a breath. Inhaling deeply her nose twitched
as Drusal’s earth element whispered over her skin to bolster a flagging spirit with the aroma
of vanilla ice cream. A radiant smile was grateful thanks for the support given without the
need to ask. “Your task is to convince Grandmother that I’m not a total lost cause. Make it
known that I’m stubbornly aggressive….”
A deep belly laugh interrupted her flow. Drusals eyes creased shut as he gripped at the table
for support.
“Lap it up Fur ball, I’m not finished yet.” Cat loved his laugh. It made him more human, less
the remote otherworldly Hound who had driven her to the edge of surrender to humiliate
the Granddaughter of a hated Mistress.
“Inform her that I have the power to repel your advances, but not enough to resist your claim
as my mate, indefinitely.” Twisting her fingers together Cat dropped her eyes. She couldn’t
resist him for long, he had sneaked beneath her skin, to invade her heart.
“Make her aware that I will not be easily dominated by another creature, having so recently
emerged from Phillipe’s thrall, to realise that he had taken all that was mine to give by raping
my body and clouding my mind.” The pain of betrayal still had the power to strip Cat of a
fierce determination to hold on to a hard won independence. Her body closed in to hunch
over the table, the barriers in her mind clamped shut, a steel wall repressing the images
etched vividly on her psyche.
Reaching out a hand to fall on the table, Drusal ached to wipe the horror from her face.
This female was too proud to accept sympathy, her past mapped out the future. Iscatya was
a force of nature, seemingly not seen by the Fates, or envisioned by the Queen. All that she
could so easily accomplish, a nebulous dream, woven specifically to tempt him to forgo a
taste of revenge at the madness inflicted upon his kin, at the dire need forced upon him to
destroy the innocent Fae who had been driven from the shores of their homeland.
His was the hand that had driven whole families into exile. How could he hold out the
same tainted hand to a female who had been so basely abused? Iscatya had thwarted
continued assault to despatch her tormentor back to the fires of hell he so richly deserved.
In truth she could easily follow the path her Grandmother had forged, become a more
ruthless despot as her powers fully emerged. Power ultimately corrupts the soul, if the
wielder is not strong enough to use it wisely. Drusal admitted a growing attraction to the
witch, but he did not trust her naïve persona. She could still turn on him, in a fit of rage.
Unfolding from a tense crouch, Cat’s shoulder muscles screamed from the abuse. Rocking
her head from side to side the bones in her neck cracked, the prelude to a migraine of
titanic proportions.
Sensitive to her wavering aura, Drusal felt the tide of pain building in the female’s skull,
sensed the tension winding through a trembling body. With a whisper of sound he was at
her back, long fingers massaging the knot of muscle between her shoulder blades.
With a sigh of relief turning to a moan as his earth essence infused her skin with warmth,
Cat breathed in the sweet smell of wild flowers, becoming engulfed in a cloak of
compassionate comfort. Giving herself up to the tender kneading of a subtly erotic massage,
her nipples hardened asa wash of desire tightened her lower belly in a cramp
of frustrated longing. God, if a simple act of kindness could set her body aflame, what could
Drusal do to her, or for her, if he really wanted to make love, and not drive her insane with
pheromone induced glamour.
Gently disengaging his fingers from the nape of her neck, Drusal pulled Cat to her feet, opal
misted eyes traced the delicate structure of her face.
“I feel your arousal. That was not my intention. My wish was to give you relief from pain,
nothing more.” Head lowered, lips mere inches apart he cupped her face in both hands.
“I will not force myself upon thee again.” He whispered the promise.
“I’m aware of how distasteful I am to you, but I do thank you for the pain relief and the
apology.” Cat breathed out huskily, pink flags flying on her cheeks.
Running his hand over the long braid at her back Drusal felt single strands attach themselves
to his wrist, effectively locking his hand in place. His own rush of arousal took him by
surprise, as did the light of disappointment written in tilted hazel eyes.
Biting at her lip Cat held back tears. She didn’t trust his intentions, but she would miss the
strength and protection his presence offered. “The shield won’t hold you prisoner Drusal…”
She shifted back a pace from the temptation of his body.
“Getting back through is a different story.” Her hands were held up as if to repel him.
“I will have to trust that you will receive me willingly my mate.” He knew that trust was to
be earned. Drusal saw desire not trust in green eyes. Hand free of silken bondage he cupped
her face once more in a cage of tenderness. “Is this farewell…?” He asked her baldly.
Hope flared in her eyes. The molten honey of his voice melted the bones in Cat’s body.
Every fibre of her being wanted him, her throat was tight, her heart clamoured with the
desire to beg him to stay with her. “No…” The denial exploded from her lips, a desperate
plea from the heart. “We haven’t consolidated the plan to divert Queen Grandmother…”
Cat blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“As you wish…” Seeking her hand with his he drew the witch back out onto the lawn, his
loins tightening with the need to take on her arousal, and make it wholly his.
Settling Cat on the grass Drusal went back to the kitchen to gather the remains of the meal
onto a tray. Handing over a tall glass of fruit juice he dropped to the lawn legs stretched
out at the female’s side, within touching distance if she wished. Finishing the last morsel of
fish Drusal kept an eye on her face.
Fear of him, fear for him cascaded through Cat’s heart. He was strong, menacing, but any
mention of the Queen leeched him of that strength. Istirina may be her Grandmother by
blood, blood that Drusal seem
ed to fear was also tainted with insanity.
Cat had to prove to him that madness was not hereditary. God, she hoped it wasn’t.
If so, he would be right to enslave her. Heart thudding in her breast she sank her fingers
into the loamy ground. Each grain of soil bolstered a flagging spirit with a burst of energy
that invigorated her mind, unlocking doors that revealed memories of ancient battles.
A war between vampires and Fae, a war thwarted by a sacrifice Cat could perceive only as
a graphic loss of a loved one. A menace shimmered with dark constancy over the Sovereign
realm. The threat was immediate, a rising of deadly forces reaching out to claim all that
was sacred to the Fae.
“Cat what are you doing? I see what you see….” Drusal’s shock resounded in her head.
“How did you access these memories? I can feel the Dark Court begin to rise…” The fear in
Drusal’s voice held a note of panic. “How did you retrieve our history? These images are
hundreds of years old.”
“I talked to the earth and she answered me…” It was a cryptic retort he didn’t expect.
“Your control of the elements is astounding for one so young.” Drusal had recovered
enough to praise her skill, to placate a creature, as one with the mother of all.
“Thank you Lord Vardon.” Her smile was dreamy. “I’m trying hard to understand who and
what I am. Being thrown in at the deep end, makes every new discovery scarier than the
last.” Sitting cross-legged facing the deep woods that surrounded her home, Cat scanned
the vicinity of the shield, all was still. Birds sang a happy trill in the trees, bees droned in
and out of the wild flowers, a vivid counterpoint to the bloody scenes Mother Earth chose
to disclose. “What happened to cause a war between dimensions? I’m assuming those
were the images we both witnessed.”
Breathless with anticipation and incipient terror that the bloodbath could be repeated in
her lifetime, Cat tucked her arms around her chest, biting nervously at her lip.