Once Upon a Forbidden Desire, page 13
He arched a golden brow. “I thought we had long ago established that none of you ladies are proper.”
“Oh dear,” Phoebe replied. “Perhaps we should shriek at the sight of you now and again, just to preserve the remnants of our reputations.”
“I would know you were shrieking in delight at the excellence of Hesperine dancing skills.”
The price of every dance with him was so high. If the Mage Orders found out they were sneaking off with a Hesperine, Serena’s dire predictions of execution would come true. If her father found out she had led her sisters astray like this, his rage would break her long before the religious authorities did.
But the price of giving Alethas up would be so much higher.
ALETHAS HAD FIRST met Phoebe in this very room while a siege had threatened destruction just outside her door.
Tonight, he feared she would tell him farewell forever.
He could taste her worries on the air, feel the weight of the years in her heart. The Blood Union made the emotions of mortals transparent to him, revealing the inner beauty that had first drawn him to her eight years ago.
It had been just another human battle. The feuding lords always wanted more land, more titles, more heirs. All they did was make war and breed. Hesperines came to clean up the carnage and restore some vestige of dignity to the broken remains of men who gave their lives for nothing.
He had been waiting on the edge of the battlefield. Through the despair, he had felt the ferocity of Phoebe’s courage within the besieged castle. He had found her here, comforting her sisters as the invaders breached the fortress and they awaited the enemy’s revenge for their father’s deeds.
Alethas would never forget how Phoebe had stared him down. There is plenty of blood in the battle outside to accommodate your thirst. I will not allow you to make my girls your prey.
“You’ve never been afraid of me,” he reminded her now.
“Well, perhaps for a few moments, at first,” she confessed, “but you quickly persuaded me you were less dangerous to us than our countrymen.”
“I hardly had time for persuasion.”
He had spirited them away to safety an instant before the enemy broke down the door. Even now, he could feel the shadows in Phoebe’s aura, the specters of that night. Lucis’s men would not have spared any of the girls. Her father, after all, had not spared theirs. Alethas had sensed the invaders’ filthy intentions in the Blood Union, and not killing them was one of the hardest things he had ever done.
But returning Phoebe and her sisters to this room had been harder still after her father had driven the enemy back out of the fortress. When he helped Phoebe sneak out over and over again for a taste of freedom, he always brought her back.
But tonight, he would do everything in his power to keep her.
“Alethas is only interested in our safety,” said Amata, “not our blood.”
At the innocent remark from her sister, Alethas heard Phoebe’s pulse pick up, as it always did when he whispered in her ear.
“I think a certain degree of fear of powerful beings is warranted.” Laetitia raised a brow at him. “But we know you use your power for our benefit.”
“I will never let any of you come to harm.” He smiled for Amata and winked at her. “Do I need to flash my fangs and give any of your suitors a scare for being rude?”
Amata laughed and swatted his arm. “No, you mustn’t! They’ve been completely honorable, and you must remain completely secret.”
“Are you looking forward to tomorrow, Your Highnesses?”
She and the other girls all smiled and enthused, while Laetitia beamed proudly, their excitement sparkling in the Blood Union.
Phoebe put on her eldest-sister smile and said nothing, her aura a war of relief and trepidation.
He offered her his hand. “Ready to dance?”
Her fingers slid into his, and he captured them, bringing her hand to his lips. The shiver that went through her gratified him.
“We ought to proceed with caution,” she murmured.
He pulled a veil spell around them so the chatting younger women wouldn’t hear their conversation. “What’s worrying you, Phoebe?”
His concerned question, or perhaps the way he said her name, made her ease closer to him. “Father has given two of our guests quarters across the hall.”
“Hmm, yes. I sensed them when I arrived.”
She hesitated, biting her lip. Her upper one was the same size as the lower, making her sisters lament her features and him fantasize about kissing her. “Do you think it’s safe for us to go tonight?”
His hand tightened on hers instinctively. He would never give up this last night with her. “I will make sure it’s safe. Those two dull-witted lords will never sense my magic.”
Her mouth quirked. “Would you go see if the sleeping draught I put in their wine has worked?”
He laughed. “My lady, did you poison your father’s guests so you could sneak out with a heretic?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Of course not. It’s a perfectly benign sleeping draught to preserve our night of dancing … innocent dancing.”
There was nothing innocent about the musk in her scent when he was near, or his mental image of her blood staining the white velvet of that dress, or the sounds of pleasure he imagined she would make while he feasted on her.
“No one will ruin this night for us,” he promised.
He left his spell lights to cheer them and slipped into the next chamber with one Hesperine step.
He found the two men slumped in their chairs by the dying fire, but his instincts shouted a warning. He stalked toward them, flaring his nostrils, and cast his magical senses out around him. What struck him as uncanny about this mundane sight?
He smelled nothing but leather and wine and Phoebe’s alchemy. The men’s hearts beat at the steady pace of sleep, their breathing even.
Alethas shook his head. He was simply on alert because of the Gift Collector he was hunting. One of the god of death’s assassins lurked in the area, bent on robbing Hesperines of their Gift of immortality. It troubled Alethas that it was taking him and his comrades so long to apprehend the stealthy bastard.
But they would do it. The First Prince of the Hesperines had entrusted this task to Alethas, and he would not disappoint the person who had saved his sorry mortal life and given him a second chance as an immortal.
Tonight, though, it appeared safe to allow himself this time with Phoebe.
He stepped back to her side so suddenly that he succeeded in startling her. He grinned, taking her hand and twirling her.
A delighted laugh escaped her. Goddess, what music.
“They’re snoring like grumpy old bears.” With a flick of his other hand, he made the golden spell light dance around the girls. Such showmanship was hardly necessary to perform essential Hesperine magic, but he liked seeing them smile.
It did take power for one Hesperine to step twelve mortals at once; the reminder that he possessed that much magic always made him a bit giddy. Immortality still felt new and exhilarating, even after a century.
When they arrived on the island at the center of the lake, the women gasped in delight. He was glad he could still surprise them.
Phoebe reached out as if to catch the silver, star-like spell lights he had conjured to light their path. “Oh, Alethas. It’s even more beautiful than last time.”
He offered her his arm. “You are more beautiful every time. My spells must try to keep up.”
Her cheeks turned pink. How he loved to make her blush. “You are the most outrageous flirt.”
“Nothing short of outrageous will do for a princess.”
He escorted her and her sisters between the thickets of blood-red roses. The sacred flowers of Hespera, the Goddess of Night who had created Hesperines, obscured the view of the castle across the water. Letting them all forget the mortal world for a little while.
They wove through yellow roses that he had adorned with gleaming golden magic. Deeper into the Hesperine veil spells that concealed this place from all humans.
At last they reached the glade at the center of the island, where the roses were as white as Phoebe’s gown, and his spell lights glittered like diamonds.
He had promised himself long ago he would always use his illusions to tell the truth. He created this fantasy for her because she deserved the finest of everything.
The secrets he kept from her could wait one more night. Until he pulled her so deep there was no going back to the mortal world.
THE LIGHT MOON shone, as fat and white as the roses, over the beautiful Hesperines who awaited Phoebe and her sisters in the glade. Although she knew Alethas’s comrades well after eight years of full moons, the ethereal immortals always took her breath away.
They were of all heights and builds, all complexions and genders, yet moved with the same preternatural grace. Attired in royal robes of lavish silk from far away, they had bewitching gazes that glowed like cats’ eyes under the spell light. Their every smile seemed to promise eternal comfort, but the sight of their fangs always sent a thrill of danger and boldness through Phoebe.
Roguishly handsome Zeno clapped Alethas on the shoulder. “What did I tell you? Our dear princesses couldn’t resist one more night of dancing with us.”
“Of course not,” replied petite Tahmi, her light brown hand entwined with Zeno’s large, pale one. “They wouldn’t leave for their new lives without saying goodbye.”
Phoebe felt a stab of equal happiness and envy at the sight of their friends. A thin braid of Tahmi’s dark hair was woven into Zeno’s, and she wore his braid at her temple. A more intimate symbol than any wedding rings, signaling a bond deeper than marriage vows. They were Graced, devoted to each other in blood, magic, and love for all of time.
The Hesperine musicians at the edge of the glade began a haunting tune on their lute and lyre, flute and drum. Phoebe and her sisters joined hands in a ring with their immortal dancing partners. They began the elegant steps of the ancient syrtos dance common to Hesperine and mortal lands alike.
The Hesperines were impossibly fleet of foot, and the women quickened their pace to match. The dance went faster and faster until it became a breathless whirl that left Phoebe dizzy and exhilarated.
The circle slowed, and the Hesperines guided them into a stately Tenebran court dance. Alethas released Phoebe’s hand, then pressed his palm to hers as they spun in their own circle, just the two of them.
Here it was, the perfect rhythm that made her forget the cruel ways the world turned. His hand was so steady on hers, his blue eyes a celestial pull. They never missed a step, their bodies perfectly in tune.
She could imagine how it would feel to move with him in the most intimate dance of all. How often she had envisioned the body hidden from her under his long, high-collared tunic and loose trousers. He would have the body of a dancer, honed by art, not war. A long torso. Powerful thighs. Firm, supple muscles.
When it was time to change partners, she landed palm-to-palm with Zeno. He gave her a knowing grin. “I’ve been watching you and Alethas dance around each other for too long. When will you put the poor fellow out of his misery?”
Phoebe blushed. “You understand the stakes.”
“Better than most.” His gaze found his Grace as they spun past her. “Tahmi is worth any sacrifice. I’d give up my Tenebran title all over again for her.”
“But you risked everything to save your mortal brother.”
“You’ve done right by your sisters. Time to let Alethas do right by you.” Zeno’s grin widened. “I highly recommend life as a powerful Hesperine’s personal banquet table.”
He handed Phoebe off to spin with Tahmi.
“We are your diversion for tonight,” the ancient Hesperine announced. “A veil spell here, a favorite dance there, and your nosy sisters will never notice if you disappear with Alethas for a little while … or a long while.”
“Not you too,” Phoebe protested.
“You have danced right into a conspiracy, I’m afraid. We all have a vested interest in Alethas’s happiness—and yours.”
Phoebe spun through all the Hesperines’ kind encouragement and suggestive advice. But the court dance came to an end before she found her way back to Alethas.
She knew he stood behind her before she turned. She could feel him there, with some sense she couldn’t name, before he slipped around to face her.
“May I have the next dance?” he asked.
“You had the first one.”
He held out his hand once more. “Prepare yourself, Your Highness. I am greedy tonight. I will do my best to claim every dance with you.”
She slid her hand in his, savoring the glide of their skin, needing more than these meager touches. She, too, was so greedy. “And if I give you all my dances, what will you give to me?”
“Come find out.”
The music changed, and he teased her with the first, flirtatious steps of the Tenebran estampie. She matched him. Facing each other in two lines, one immortal, one mortal, the Hesperines and her sisters approached each other across the divide of eternity. In twos, they turned and danced around each other, never quite touching.
With each rotation, Alethas circled closer. Closer. When the moment came for him to take her hand, his touch seemed to reach her whole body.
Then his fingers slipped out of her grasp again.
She pursued him in the next round of turns, chasing the moment when he would touch her again.
At last he came within reach. She held fast to him as they leapt along in procession with the others.
She wanted no more Tenebran dances.
The final turn of the estampie brought his mouth close to her ear. “May I have the next dance?”
If he asked her like that, she could so easily give him anything. But tonight, she would also ask for so much. “Only if I choose which one it shall be.”
“My princess has demands, I see.”
“Those are my terms. Will you meet them?”
“I aspire to exceed expectations. What dance shall we do next, Your Highness?”
“The one you Hesperines call the strepho.”
A slow smile curved his beautiful mouth. “My princess does not play.”
“My friends,” he called to the musicians, “we have a request for the strepho.”
The Hesperines broke into applause, and Phoebe’s younger sisters tittered in anticipation, but she saw Laetitia’s concerned expression.
The lute and lyre released aching notes of longing through the glade. The flute tempted Phoebe with its sultry notes. When the drum began to pulse, her heart started to pound.
Alethas swept into position at her shoulder and held up their joined hands. They sprang forward together in perfect time. She was sure he used a bit of levitation, for she felt they sailed around the glade. Her burdens seemed to float away.
His strong hand settled on her waist, and satisfaction curled through her. She found his broad shoulder with her hand. Effortlessly, he lifted her and spun. She extended her other hand, relishing the weightless moment. Until her feet came back to earth.
But the next lift came, and he let her fly again.
Over and over again, a brief moment of perfection, when he raised her up and set her free. Just like every ephemeral night of dancing.
She needed more.
This time when he lifted her, she put both hands on his shoulders. His firm grip closed around her waist. Their gazes locked, and she gasped as he spun her. Her senses frayed, her inhibitions flying away.
She glimpsed her sisters, happy, safe, dancing and laughing. For this one moment, she could stop worrying about them.
Alethas brought her down, only to raise her again before her feet ever touched the ground. His knee lifted as he leapt with her, the inside of his muscular thigh brushing her leg through her skirts.
This was what she wanted. To unwind everything that bound her until the words she had wanted to say for eight years could finally come free.
A glimpse over Alethas’s shoulder revealed Laetitia watching them. But then she glanced away as if no one was there, and Phoebe knew Hesperine magic had come to their aid.
Alethas’s mouth brushed the shell of her ear. “Will you give me more than a dance tonight, Phoebe?” he asked, as he did every time they danced the strepho.
“When the time is right,” she promised, as always.
“Will you let me drink from your vein until you cry out for more?”
“When the time is right.”
“Will you let me pleasure you the way you deserve?”
Eight years of frustrated need gripped her, and tears pricked her eyes.
“Will the time ever be right?” His voice was rough, no illusions hiding the pain in his eyes.
She drew a deep breath. “Yes. The time is right. Tonight.”
Triumph flashed in his gaze, and he pulled her flush against his hard, lithe body. Her belly dipped as he levitated them higher off the ground. The glade spun away from them, and then they were dancing on air in the privacy of the trees under the liquid crescent of the crimson Blood Moon.
No one was looking at her as their example. No one cast the gaze of judgment upon her. Only the moons, Hespera’s Eyes, looked on as Alethas let Phoebe slide down his body, then lowered his mouth toward hers.
That kiss, that deep drink she had long thirsted for, hovered almost within reach of her mouth. His breath caressed her lips. His arms wrapped tighter around her. But he paused, as if waiting for some final sign from her.
She took his beloved face in her hands and closed that last, tiny distance between them.
The first warm touch of his mouth was a marvelous shock. This was real. After all these years of dreams and wanting, his lips were really dragging across hers, tender and hungry.
In the next moment, her mind caught up to her, and she remembered how long she had been a widow and that she had no idea how to kiss a man anymore, much less a Hesperine.
