The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(96)

“Um… yes?” I asked back, now not so certain about my strategy.

Lahn kept staring at me. Then he looked over my head. Then he sighed. Then without looking at me again, he turned on his boot and walked away.

I was taking that as a no.

Great.

I walked back in Zahnin’s cham to see Diandra and Claudine (who was older than Diandra but she still held great beauty, maybe it was something in the water or just that the Korwahk scouts had good eyes) sitting on either side of Sabine on the bed, Claudine murmuring to her. This happened under Zahnin’s glower from where he stood a few feet inside the tent flaps, legs planted, arms crossed, eyes riveted to his wife and the two women.

If he kept glaring at her like that, she’d never calm down and let him in.

I got close to him, touched his arm, jerked my head to the tent flaps and then, without looking to see if he followed, I walked back outside.

He followed.

When he did, I got close, looked into his dark eyes and saw that he was scary but he was still handsome. He had a scar that slashed through his eyebrow which only served to make a hot guy hotter. If he didn’t constantly wear an expression that made him look like he wanted to rip someone’s head off, he’d be super hot.

I sucked in breath, hoped that he truly wished tranquility in his cham and then, in Korwahk, I told him exactly what I told Lahn. I faltered in the middle when his glower looked like it was flashing to rage (this was around about the time when I told him he needed to stop taking his wife against her will) but I sallied forth.

I finished with, “Zahnin, my protector, I know you do not wish to hear any of this. But if you want peace in your cham, if you want to hear cries of pleasure and sounds of mirth, hers and,” I leaned in, “your own, instead of the sound of tears and the feel of fear, then you must take heed to what I say.”

His pissed off stare didn’t waver so I kept on.

“I will do my best, with Diandra and Claudine, to teach her your language and the ways of your people, to help her to understand her new life and to be able to communicate with you and you her, but that is all we can do. You must do the rest.”

He continued to stare down at me angrily.

Shit. There was nothing for it.

I kept right on going. “Your king did not break through with me until his touch stopped taking and started giving and until, in our cham, he treated me with kindness. He is the mightiest of Suh Tunak, he recognized the battle he had on his hands, he analyzed it, created his strategy and then he went about winning that battle using any means necessary. And, Zahnin,” I edged closer and for the sake of this man who pledged to guard me even if it meant giving his life, who backed me against Dortak and who clearly wanted his wife to settle in her new life with him in his cham, I admitted to him at the same time I admitted to myself, “my Lahn won that battle. I now lay awake at night waiting for him to return. When he does not, I fall asleep looking forward to the morning when he will wake me with his hands. He is my king, he is my warrior, he is my husband and I am proud to say above all… he is mine.”

Zahnin said not one word and kept staring at me.

I returned his stare, all out of ideas.

Then he grunted and jerked up his chin.

I took that as a yes.

I smiled up at him hopefully. He watched me smile, shook his head, the scowl left his face and I saw his lips twitch.

Yep, definitely hot. If Sabine had it in her, there were hints that, soon, she would think she didn’t do so badly.

Then, hopefully, Zahnin would share with her his greatest gift and she’d feel touched and loved.

Like I felt that morning.

Good news for Sabine and Zahnin, confusing and worrying news for me.

Shit.

* * * * *

“My wife creates rainbows,” Lahn muttered to the roof of our cham.

It was late. We’d just gone at it hot and heavy, so hot and heavy I came three times, (yep, three). I was sated, drowsy and in a really good mood mostly because my husband had come home before I fell asleep but it must be noted it was also because he’d given me three orgasms. My mood was too good to let all that was weighing heavily on my mind weigh on it so I’d set it aside.

I was curled up against him, my legs tangled in his, my arm resting on his abs, my cheek to his shoulder. Lahn was on his back, his arm was under me, curled around, his fingertips trailing random patterns on the skin of my hip.

“Lahn,” I whispered to his chest.

“She is also mad,” he kept muttering and I pushed up onto a forearm and looked down at him.

“Mad?” I asked.

His eyes came to me and he used one word to explain. “Zahnin.”

I pressed my lips together.

Lahn kept talking. “Do not ask me to do something like that again, Circe. I understand your heart guides you in many matters. But I am warrior, he is warrior and this is a line we never cross. Am I understood?”

I kept my lips pressed together and nodded.

His eyes dropped to my mouth then his arm tightened around me, pulling me up on his body. His other hand lifted to shift my hair from one side of my face and hold it behind my neck.

Then he spoke in a murmur, “I do not like my queen’s lips pressed tight.”

I relaxed my lips and he gave a slight nod of satisfaction then his eyes locked on mine and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and even, f**k me, tender.