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  “Ciarra will do it,” he replied firmly. “She has ventured the farthest within the Captive Lands than anyone, and more often.” He looked at Ciarra. “Who would bring with you?”

  Dienne looked at her with pleading eyes, but they didn’t sway Ciarra. Time was obviously of the essence and her sister would slow them down. The fact it would keep Dienne from Leilen was simply an added bonus.

  “Finley. If the prisoner is to be questioned, his gifts will come in handy.” She twisted around towards her lover, question in her eyes. He nodded.

  “Thank you.” Leilen again bowed his head, this time in her direction. “When do we depart?”

  “We’ll need to gather supplies. Within the hour?” She waited for his approval before standing. She heard Finley rise to his feet as well. “Please, take some time to eat.” She gestured to the meal on the table. “It will be quite a trek and we won’t be stopping to eat for some time.”

  She smiled when Finley took her hand in his strong grip. Without a word, they flashed into the large storeroom. They began packing, careful to only take what they could carry on their backs, as this would be a journey on foot.

  After several minutes, they stepped back and glanced at each other.

  “We were quicker than I thought,” she commented.

  Finley wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Her breath left in a whoosh. He bent his head and captured her mouth with his. Gripping his biceps, she gave herself over to him. His tongue plunged inside and began a wild dance with hers. He gripped her hips and she hummed in pleasure at the delicious pressure. He walked her backwards until she was against the wall, and began pulling her skirt up.

  “Fin,” she gasped. “I don’t think we have—”

  “We have time,” he insisted. “I need you. If we’re going to be out there for days, I need you now.”

  His words lit a fire in her middle that spread sensuously though her body. He lifted her and moved closer, wedging his hips between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around him. His hard cock nestled against her soft core. Too many clothes, she thought desperately and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on flashing them off her body.

  “Don’t,’ he murmured against her lips. “Let me enjoy the sight of you dishevelled from my loving. I don’t get to see you in gowns enough.”

  Ciarrra acquiesced, knowing that all too often she was in trousers and tunic—not exactly feminine and alluring.

  “Don’t,” he repeated. “You’re beautiful in anything. Trust me, the sight of your tight ass,” he squeezed her bottom, “encased in trousers is enough to drive me wild. I just want to enjoy what is in front of me right now.”

  “Stay out of my head,” she said with a laugh. She knew, as aroused as she was, she was an open book to him—her feelings, her thoughts.

  “Quit thinking so loudly,” he teased.

  Dipping his head, he nuzzled her neck. His breath whispered over her skin followed by the light glide of his tongue as he tasted her. He moved farther down, kissing the curve of her breasts.

  “Pull your gown down,” he ordered, his voice low and harsh.

  Ciarra’s pussy contracted and she groaned at the emptiness. She quickly lowered the straps of her gown, extracting her arms, and pushed the fabric just below her breasts. Finley didn’t hesitate and sucked one of her nipple between his lips and flicked it with his tongue.

  She burrowed her hands in his hair, holding him to her. She jerked helplessly, her pussy flooding, when he bit down, then swirled his tongue around the beaded crown. As he moved to the other nipple, she slid her hands down to grip his wide shoulders. Suddenly, warm skin was beneath her palms.

  She laughed breathlessly. “No fair. I have to keep the blasted gown on and you get rid of your clothes.”

  He ran a hand down her front, pushed the material of her skirt aside and thrust two fingers into her slick channel. Her muscles clamped down on the digits and she whimpered. His thick cock jerked against her thigh

  “If my clothes stayed, you’d have to make do with this.” He pumped in and out, curving his fingers to hit that oh so sensitive spot. “Is this enough?”

  Even as she climbed closer and closer to release, she shook her head. It wasn’t enough, it’d never be enough. She needed him inside her, his cock filling her, stretching her.

  Finley leant forward, still fucking her with his fingers, and kissed her cheek. His mouth next to her ear, he murmured in the ancient tongue of the Fey—words of love, words of passion. And she exploded. Sweet heat rained down on her as her muscles tightened. She gasped as sensation after sensation flooded her body, her mind. He always did this to her—overwhelmed her completely.

  When her thighs relaxed from around his hips, Finley withdrew his hand and positioned his cock at her entrance. He cupped her check and she could smell her arousal on his fingers.

  “Look at me when I take you,” he insisted, pushing inside.

  Her lips parted on sigh as he slid home, stretching her deliciously. He withdrew and drove back in. Her cry echoed through the large room. He shifted his hand down so he could hold her hips as he pistoned in and out of her. Each stroke pushed her farther into bliss. Her skin tingled, her muscles quivered, her breath stuttered out unevenly. Surrounded by pleasure, consumed by it, she almost didn’t make out Finley’s muttered words. When they sank in, she froze.

  “What?”

  He slammed into her, his fingers digging into her hips. “You. Want. Him.” Each word punctuated with a thrust of his hips.

  Even as her body reacted, as the orgasm coiled tightly in her belly, Ciarra’s mind raced. “Who? I want you, Fin.” She ran her fingers through his hair, peered into his eyes.

  One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Oh, I know, but you want him too. The King’s advisor. Leilen.” The name came out on a rush of breath, and his cock swelled impossibly inside her. He was close.

  “Don’t be silly,” she panted. “You. Only you.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said through clenched teeth. “I see the way you look at him.” He pushed his hand between them and pressed his thumb against her clit. “Is that why you asked about three being mated? Is that what you want? Him?”

  Ciarra’s head fell back as she tightened around him, his ministrations to her swollen nub pushing her farther into the honeyed release. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, but no words came out.

  “Do you dream of that? Him, you…me, together? Do you imagine him taking you from behind as I’m fucking you?” He slammed into her. “Or maybe he’s the one taking your sweet pussy while I sink into your tight ass.”

  Goddess help her, she imagined it. She thought of Leilen’s strong frame behind her, of being pressed between both men, surrounded, filled and loved. In her mind, she saw—she could almost feel—their hands running over her skin as they possessed her.

  Finley rubbed his cheek against hers as he thrust again and again. “Are you picturing it?” His voice echoed in her head as he used their mental path of communication.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “Damn you, yes.”

  His muscles tightened under her hands and he pushed into her once, twice, then his release sent her flying. She spasmed around him uncontrollably. A sob welled up in her throat as she came around his cock. Even as her body quaked with satisfaction, Ciarra couldn’t focus, couldn’t enjoy the release as her mind raced.

  What had just happened? Why had Finley pushed like that? He’d never, ever, done anything like that before. Her head fell forward onto his shoulder, and she struggled to rein in her thoughts.

  After several moments, Finley stepped back, keeping hold of her hips until she was steady on her feet. He released her and turned away. As he strode across the room to where their packs lay, his clothes appeared on his body. With shaking hands, Ciarra pulled the bodice of her gown up and slid the straps back in place.

  “Why?” she asked simply, staring at his back.

  He turned slowly to face her, hands f
isted at his sides. “Why what?”

  “Why would you do that, say those things while we’re together? How can you doubt what I feel for you?” Her voice broke.

  “I don’t,” he said simply.

  She shook her head. “What? You asked me about another man while we made love. I don’t—”

  “I don’t doubt your feelings for me. I never have, but I’m not blind, Ciarra. I know desire when I see it, and it’s all over your face when you look at him. And then you asked about true mates… What happened that you would bring that up?”

  “Nothing happened,” she protested. Again, she thought of how she didn’t recognise Finley in the dream. She would have known him, darkness or not. It had to be just a dream, no matter how different it felt—not a shared dream of true mates—because what she felt for Finley was too strong. Surely Fate wouldn’t bind her to another man, or men. The idea was ridiculous, just as Dienne had said. Ciarra just needed to forget the whole thing and focus on what she did have. The love of a strong man who has always been there for her.

  He lifted a brow at her denial.

  “Nothing happened,” she repeated. “It was curiosity, that’s all. I swear.”

  A muscle twitched in his cheek as he stared at her. “I see,” he stated flatly. “Go get ready. I’ll meet you in your father’s study.”

  He lifted the heavy packs with ease and turned away from her.

  “Fin…” She stepped forward. “Please.”

  “If you can’t be honest with me, I have nothing else to say right now.” With that, he flashed from the room.

  Chapter Two

  Ciarra stood outside her father’s study. She’d cleaned up and changed into trousers, tunic and boots. She ran her hands over her hair. It’d taken her far too long to tame the black mass into the heavy braid, her hands had been shaking so badly. What if she lost Finley because of this nonsense? She didn’t know if she could handle that.

  She straightened, determined to do her job and right things with her lover. She knocked twice on the heavy door, opening it at Finley’s command. The sight that greeted her took her breath away.

  Finley and Leilen stood near the terrace doors. How different they were, yet both so appealing. Finley was slightly taller than Leilen. His black hair hung free, brushing his shoulders. His skin was quite fair, though that was common in the Dark Realm. There were so few hours of daylight, and most slept through those, so tanned skin wasn’t something one saw often. She saw it now, though, with Leilen. His skin was a light bronze, a contrast to his blond hair. Both men had changed into clothing similar to hers.

  “Lusting after both of them now?”

  Ciarra jumped at the whispered words. She hadn’t even noticed her sister was in the room, hadn’t seen or heard her approach.

  She glanced at Dienne, surprised at the animosity in the woman’s eyes.

  “You are a selfish bitch,” she continued in a hushed voice. “Not satisfied with what you have, you have to go after the one eligible man who comes here.”

  “Stop being stupid. I’m not going after anyone. I’m doing my duty at Father’s request. If you have a problem with that, talk to him,” Ciarra advised coolly.

  Dienne huffed and walked away, right towards the men. She laid her hand on Leilen’s arm and leaned into him. Ciarra pushed aside the anger that welled up. What did she have to be upset about? If her sister wanted to pursue the King’s advisor, what was it to her? She shifted her gaze to Finley and found his eyes upon her. Uncertainty filled her as she crossed the room. She tilted her chin up, holding his gaze. Relief spread when he smiled at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Was she forgiven? It was a step in the right direction in any case.

  “Where’s Father?” Ciarra inquired.

  “He was called to Brilon and Helia’s residence. Helia had her baby this morning,” Finley said.

  “That’s wonderful. I’ll have to visit her when we return.” She glanced at Leilen, trying to ignore her sister’s simpering and hanging on him. “Do we need to wait for him?”

  “No, we’ve already discussed what we needed to.” He unwound Dienne’s arm from his and spared her a small smile.

  “Then we should go. The packs?” she asked Finley.

  He nodded towards the door and she saw them resting on the floor. They crossed the room, and when she reached for one of the bags, a tanned hand covered hers. She closed her eyes for a moment as she shivered. Goddess, reacting to a simple touch like that! Then she cocked her head to look at Leilen.

  “I’ve got it,” he murmured.

  “There’s no need—” she protested.

  “My mother would cuff me if I let you carry this and I carried nothing.” He chuckled.

  “Well, I wouldn’t tell her,” she teased as she straightened.

  He lifted the pack and slid it onto his back. “Oh, she’d find out. I don’t know how, but she would.”

  “Ready?” Finley asked, placing his hand on the small of her back.

  “Yes.”

  They made their way outside the manor, Dienne following after them. When they reached the beginning of the trail that led downwards towards the Captive Lands, Dienne threw her arms around Leilen and kissed him loudly on the mouth. Ciarra nearly laughed at the stunned look on his face.

  “Hurry back,” Dienne purred, running her hands down Leilen’s chest. She threw a glare in Ciarra’s direction, then hurried back towards the manor.

  “Uh.” He looked from Finley to Ciarra and back. “Is she this friendly with everyone?”

  “No, you’re special,” Finley quipped. He shifted the pack on his back. “Let’s go. Lead on, love.”

  Ciarra’s face flushed slightly when he winked, and she nearly stumbled as she started down the path. The manor and other residences sat up on a high ridge. The Captive Lands were below—a day and half journey away. Leilen followed behind her and Finley took up the rear position.

  They hiked in silence along the trail as it weaved through trees and thick vegetation. After some time, Leilen spoke.

  “It’s not as dark as I expected it to be,” he commented.

  Ciarra realised he’d never been out of the manor during his other visits. “Despite the name, the realm is not in complete darkness.” She made sure she spoke loudly so he could hear. “The sun will even make an appearance, in a way. Although I’m sure it isn’t what you would consider daylight. The sky lightens, but it’s difficult to make out the actual sun. It’s common belief that the magicks that surround this land cause it.” She shrugged.

  “Is there a reason we can’t flash to where Darrick is?” he asked, curiosity colouring his tone.

  “Magicks again.” Finley answered this time. “The manor is the only place in the realm you can flash into and out of. It’s the reason people are banished here. It wouldn’t do to have a prisoner be able to pop out whenever he felt like it.”

  “Prisoners are stripped of their powers,” Leilen stated.

  “True, but sometimes things don’t turn out the way they’re intended. Powers return little by little, or some other magick is at work. Isn’t that why the King wants you to see Darrick yourself? To make sure he didn’t somehow escape or regain his powers?” Finley asked pointedly.

  Ciarra glanced back and caught the sheepish grin on Leilen’s face.

  “Of course,” he murmured.

  They continued along the narrow trail, one after the other. After several hours, they came to a small clearing. Finley took the pack from his back and dropped it to the ground.

  “We’ll eat something now.” He crouched down to look through the bag.

  Ciarra peered at Leilen, looking for any signs of fatigue. The journey was not an easy one, and despite the urgency of finding the prisoner, she didn’t want to risk exhaustion—that could quickly lead to injury. Apparently, her worry was unfounded. He was barely out of breath. His skin glistened in the dim light, and his shirt clung damply to his torso, but he looked fine. Her gaze dropped lower, taking in
the way his trousers hugged his thighs. Yes, he looked fine, indeed.

  “Drink, love?” Finley handed her a canteen, and she felt her face heat.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice husky. From the hike, she reasoned mentally. Certainly not because her thoughts were wandering where they shouldn’t. Finley winked at her before taking a few steps and sitting on the ground. He leant back against a large rock and stretched his legs out before him.

  Ciarra lowered herself next to him. She took a drink of the cool water and passed it to him. Leilen sat across from them and took in his surroundings as he ate. A faint frown kissed his lips.

  “Are you well?” Finley asked.

  Leilen glanced at him and smiled. “Of course. It’s just…this isn’t what I expected. When people talk about the Dark Realm, it is about how hellish the place is. I’ve always pitied those who were here. Not the prisoners,” he clarified. “Those who were born here—the Guardians.”

  Ciarra pushed aside the flare of irritation. She knew what was said about her home, often by those who have never been there. They’d never seen the beauty of the realm, like she did, like Finley did. Although there were a few who left when they came of age—or dreamt of doing so, like Dienne—most who were born here stayed. Quite happily in fact.

  Her annoyance must have been clear on her face because Leilen shook his head.

  “I didn’t mean to offend,” he said quickly.

  “None taken,” Finley assured, nudging Ciarra playfully before handing her a wedge of cheese and thick slice of bread. She rolled her eyes

  “When people talk, it’s always about those who are banished. You call it the Captive Lands, where they are held?” He waited for Finley’s nod. “Before coming here, I’d never heard of the Captive Lands. People were banished to the Dark Realm and that was that.”

  “A place people spoke of in hushed, horrified voices, no doubt,” Ciarra said with a laugh. “I promise I’m not offended. I understand why you, and others, think as you do, but it’s frustrating. I love my home.”