The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(59)

As ever, no escape.

So I escaped the only way I had.

I twisted my neck to turn my face away.

But I was with Lahn and Lahn being Lahn, he didn’t even give me that.

His big hand curved around my jaw and he turned my head so I was facing him then his fingers glided into the hair at the side of my head, his thumb against my cheek, forcing my face into his throat and keeping it there.

I felt the burn in my throat and pulled in a deep breath that broke in the middle, loudly, communicating my struggle against tears.

Lahn’s fingers tensed into my scalp but otherwise his hand didn’t move.

It took a lot out of me, everything I had left, but I succeeded in holding them back.

When my breath evened, communicating I won my battle, Lahn’s neck bent and I felt his lips on my hair as his fingers again tensed gently into my scalp.

There he whispered, “Na lapay kah rahna Dahksahna. Na lapay kah Lahnahsahna. Na lapay kah Circe. Fahzah, Circe. Fahzah. Farzah kay markan nahna rah ruhnee zo kay. Farzah. Kuvoo sah, Circe, loot farzah danhay.”***

One couldn’t say I had the Korwahk language down pat, not even close, but I knew enough to know what he was saying.

And from the way he said it, I knew he really meant it.

And there it was, I had no choice, I had no escape, I had nothing.

So I closed my eyes, forced my body to relax and tried to find sleep.

This took awhile before I succeeded and his hand never left my head until I was out and when I went out, I went out.

So I didn’t feel nor even sense Lahn’s hand drifting down to curl around my neck nor did I feel the pad of his thumb tenderly press up on my jaw to expose my face to him.

And lastly, I didn’t feel his lips brush mine before his arm curved around me, he pulled me deeper under him and then he fell asleep.

*Translation: “Leave us!”

**Translation: “You are not my Lahn.”

***Translation: “You are my golden queen. You are my tigress. You are my Circe. Always, Circe. Always. Never will I allow your gold to be taken from me. Never. Understand this, Circe, and never forget.”

Chapter Fifteen

The Gifts

The noises of the Daxshee being disassembled and packed up were all around me but I didn’t see it nor did I hear it.

I was completely in my head.

Being in that world was no good place to be and being in my head wasn’t much better.

Still, it was better so that was where I was going to be.

It was early afternoon the next day after Lahn struck me and I knew from the noises invading the cham that woke me up (alone in our bed, might I add) that the packing up had already begun.

The minute I moved in bed, my girls swung into action, feeding me, bathing me, dressing me like the queen I was and then quickly went to work to pack our belongings for the ride.

Now, I was sitting outside on a big, soft hide with some cushions under a piece of gauze that had been set up on a slant to protect me from the sun. I had a plate of untouched food in front of me, a jug of water, a cup and Ghost was rolling around, playing with some toy one of my girls had made for her (in other words, tearing the thing to pieces).

The activity was intense, the hustle and bustle all around and I watched with distraction six young men who were likely around fourteen or fifteen, clearly Horde warriors in training considering they were all tall, fit and muscular, pulling down Lahn and my cham.

They were good at it. They were strong, fast and clearly had some practice.

Then I felt it before I saw him round the tent. That raw, brutal energy.

Lahn was coming.

I braced and then I saw him move toward me wearing nothing but his hides, his boots, his hair still in the braid I’d plaited in it the day before.

He moved well, I noticed. He’d been trained since he was a little boy to know what his body could do and command every inch of it and that was exactly how he looked when he moved.

All that power was at his complete command.

And now I knew in a way I never wished to know just how much power he wielded.

His eyes were on me the second I was in his line of sight and in that same instant I caught his flinch.

He’d marked me. I knew it. I didn’t have a mirror and I didn’t need to see his reaction to be made aware of it. The skin on my cheekbone was tender to the point that even the lightest touch caused significant pain and it was swollen so badly the skin felt stretched to the breaking point. But even if I couldn’t feel it, I saw it in the eyes of my girls the minute they saw me that morning and then, all day, the eyes of those moving around me. Or, more to the point, those eyes in faces not smiling at me, heads not nodding but avoiding my gaze and, after seeing my husband’s mark, looking swiftly away.

I noticed even with the flinch his gait didn’t stutter as he made his way to me. And I tipped my head way back to watch him as he didn’t hesitate to bend, his hand finding mine, engulfing it and without a word to me he pulled me gently to my feet.

He started moving us, his hand in mine and he still said nothing to me but he barked, “Teetru, Ghost,” and in two short words gave the order to his busy slave to take time out from her important tasks to look after my pet.

He strode around our now fallen tent and into the disappearing pathway that was fast becoming a clearing and I hurried to keep up. Not, this time, protesting his pace. Not, this time, speaking a word.

But I knew his head turned because I felt his eyes on me then his hand squeezed mine and his gait slowed so I didn’t have to half run to keep up.