“How is compassion a weakness?” she asked, her lower lip trembling.

  “It makes you vulnerable,” he replied. “And I shan’t always be able to protect you.”

  They rode in silence, and the gloom of the forest deepened. Noticing the honeysuckle bower where they had cut her namesake, she glanced around, watching familiar landmarks fade and hearing unusual sounds the deeper they rode into the ancient wood.

  “Where are we?” she whispered.

  “In the magic realm,” her husband answered. “The Fae rarely go beyond the honeysuckle bower.”

  “Why?”

  “Because mortals frequent the perimeters of the forest.”

  “I am a mortal.”

  “Not really.”

  She looked over at Roahre and found him watching her closely. “What do you mean?”

  “You are a direct descendent of the Green People. That means you will live much longer than most mortals.”

  “How much longer?”

  He smiled fondly. “I have no clue, but I am going to enjoy every moment of our lives together.”

  The time passed, and finally, Honey asked, “Can we stop and rest? My backside is numb.”

  A deep chuckle rumbled out of Roahre’s chest. “I have a better idea,” he said.

  “Oh?”

  He reigned in his horse, and Honey’s steed halted. Holding his arms out to her, he said, “Come here.”

  “Climb over to your horse?”

  He nodded.

  Leaning over, she allowed Roahre to clasp her by her waist. He pulled her over to his steed, effortlessly depositing her in his lap so that she faced him. The air shimmered around him, and soon, Shandon’s face was gone and Roahre’s stared back at her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I am going to make love to you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Here? On your horse?”

  Laughing, Roahre nuzzled her neck. “Yes, here on my horse.”

  “But—” Her thoughts scattered when her husband claimed her mouth with his.

  “Someone might chance upon us,” she gasped when he finally released her lips.

  Roahre tugged at her skirts, pulling the rough fabric up her silky, pale thighs.

  “Not here,” he said, his breath hot and heavy against her bosom. He rooted against her breasts like a babe searching for his milk. “We are too deeply in the forest. No one will chance coming this far.”

  The horse stomped a hoof in impatience. Startled, Honey grabbed at her husband, and he took the opportunity to move her back slightly and freed his eager cock from his trousers. His hand found its way to her undergarment and nestled against her crotch.

  “You are wet,” Roahre murmured as he trailed kisses from her bosom to the base of her throat. “Let me see just how wet you are.”

  A whimper escaped her as he pulled her undergarment away and lifted her slightly. He pierced her body with his hardness, filling her up and brushing her innermost spot. Honey wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to set the pace of their bodies. With no place to put her feet and brace herself, she succumbed to Roahre’s wandering hands and the sensations he stirred within her. Leaning back slightly, she met her husband’s gaze. The emerald vividness of his eyes glowed and grew brighter with each of his thrusts. He worked his hips beneath her, urging the tightness within Honey to reach incredible heights.

  “Please,” she whispered, his gaze holding her captive, his cock bumping a spot inside her that felt both delicious and maddening.

  “Please what?” he said, the radiance in his eyes intensifying further.

  “I want to touch the heavens again,” Honey gasped.

  “And we shall.” He smiled and closed his eyes, his hips moving faster.

  Honey sighed, her breath quickening. Fire licked her insides, swirling through her abdomen and down her arms and legs. Her breasts and toes tingled, and she felt the wet, slippery folds of her body release fluids as she neared that intensely beautiful place only Roahre could send her to. As he rocked her hips, the saddle horn bumped against her ass and the leather beneath them creaked. The Fae steed swayed under their rhythmic bodies, its impatient snorts punctuating the quiet forest.

  The aroma of honeysuckle overwhelmed Honey’s senses and she realized the odor stemmed from her. The closer she reached the door to the heavens, the more intense the sweet scent of honeysuckle became.

  “By Raya’s power—your scent is intoxicating,” Roahre panted. “It makes me feel as though I’ve drank too much wine.”

  He pulled her bodice lower. Stitches in the fabric snapped, and he snuggled his face into her cleavage, inhaling deeply. His tongue caressed the swell of her bosoms, and Honey arched her back. He uttered a pleasured noise, his body stiffening. Feeling his cock begin to pulse within her, Honey reached the highest point of sensation. She clasped Roahre’s shoulders, her fingers biting into his tunic. Green and white sparkles spun around them as if they had fallen into a magical vortex. The shimmering lights danced upon the horse, trailed upon their bodies, and rained upon the ground like a grinder’s sparks.

  Roahre grunted, his hands moving her hips harder, the head of his cock rubbing her womb more intensely. The dam burst inside Honey, and she cried out. Wave after wave of throbbing, pulsating sensation crashed throughout her body. Her insides clenched, and fluids seeped from her swollen mound.

  A satisfied sound, followed by a throaty, guttural shout erupted from her husband. His head tipped back, and his expression tensed as he spewed his seed into her womb. Honey felt the spurts of hot life fluid fill her deepest place and shuddered with tiny aftershocks of sensation. He moved her hips slightly, coaxing the last bit of seed from his cock, his breathing ragged. Finally, he began to relax and wrapped his arms around Honey, drawing her close.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I have loved you for so long,” Roahre whispered into her hair.

  She snuggled closer, inhaling his curious aroma of spices. “You make me feel…” She sighed. “There are no words to describe it.”

  He hugged her. “Trust me, my love. I truly understand.” Raising her, he slid out of Honey’s velvetiness and adjusted his trousers. “How about a rest? I have dried fruit, cheese, and a bit of moonbeam wine in my saddlebags.”

  “Mmm.” Honey smiled languidly. “I am hungry. You have given me quite an appetite.”

  He grinned, his emerald eyes mischievous, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before helping her swing her legs over the side of the horse. Slowly, he lowered her to the ground.

  Honey pulled up her skirts and re-tied her undergarment while Roahre retrieved the food and wine from the saddlebags. He shrugged off his outer tunic and spread it on a leafy area where they could relax and dine.

  “Come, Honey,” he said, motioning her over to him. “Let us eat and rest, then we will be on our way to your new home.”

  Roahre untied a bladder flask and positioned it so it would not spill their wine. He cut several slices of hard, rich orange cheese and laid a cloth full of dried apples, peaches, dates, and pomegranates next to the wine skin. They sat eating quietly.

  “You are deep in thought,” he said.

  She looked up to find his intense gaze upon her.

  “Something troubling you?”

  “I…”

  “You are my love, my wife, and my queen. Do not fear telling me things.”

  Taking a deep breath, Honey let it out slowly and said, “I just do not understand why you stole Shandon and lied to Mother. Why you could not have just been honest with her? Tell her the truth?”

  “What your mother did and said this morning is why,” Roahre replied. “It was easier to wait until you were of age to make your own decision about me. As for your cousin, he has much magic within him too.” Honey looked sharply at him.

  “His is not as strong as yours, but it is strong enough that Shandon is capable of wielding a few spells and passing the strength of its essence to the Green People. I have seen the power in his children. It makes me happy that our race is growing and strengthening its magic through him.”

  “It is wrong to steal a child.” Her heart thundered in her chest, but she had to be honest, had to tell him how she felt. “Mother mourned him for days, and you made her believe that you were Shandon only to reveal later that she had been tricked.”

  “You are right, my love.” Roahre leaned over and placed one hand over hers folded in her lap. “There is one thing you must remember. I am a king who must do what is best for his people, and although that may not make what I have done—or what others of my people have done—right, we must still protect ourselves and ensure our future. It is like being on a battlefield.”

  “Battlefield?”

  He nodded. “What does a commander do when faced with protecting one man or one thousand men?”

  “He sacrifices the one to save a thousand?”

  “Yes.”

  “My mind comprehends, husband, but that does not mean my heart understands.”

  Roahre squeezed her hand. “Do not allow this to come between us, my love.”

  “I have much to learn and adjust to, but in order to do so, I need to know more.”

  “Such as?”

  “If you are a king, then you must be with your people to handle matters and see that all is well in your realm, yes?”

  He nodded.

  “Then how could you grow up with me and my sisters?” Dread settled in Honey’s stomach, as if she had swallowed a hard, cold wedge of iron. She searched her husband’s eyes, but all she saw was sincerity and worry. “How could you be with us, watching me and my sisters grow into the women we are now, and yet rule your kingdom as a king should?” A pained expression crossed Roahre’s handsome face, and she noticed the ethereal light in his eyes had dimmed. “Please,” she said, “I must know the truth.”

  His gaze moved from hers to a spot in the forest behind her. He swallowed, and replied, “Changelings and glamour, but mostly it was glamour.”

  “You cast a spell upon us?” she whispered, a pain skewering her heart. “My memories—the memories of the entire family are…a lie?”

  Hesitantly, Roahre nodded. “Yes.”

  “How—how could you do such a vile thing?”

  “The need of my people was more important.”

  A cool sheen of sweat broke out across Honey’s body as she contemplated her husband’s words. She stared at a decaying stump a few feet away, her gaze following a vine of honeysuckle that wound its way up its coarse structure. Closing her eyes, she willed the disbelief and hurt away, but it remained like a dark wine stain upon a rare, delicate fabric.

  “Mother was right,” she said.

  “My love, the Green People needed you, still need you. Our goddess told you the very same. You are the key to restoring magic to the Fae.” He moved toward her, avoiding the food and the wine bladder in the center of the tunic. Kneeling, he placed his hands on her upper arms and looked deeply into her eyes. “I have loved you for so long. I will always love you, but you must realize that I have to do what is right for my people. Lives depend upon me.”

  “I know that, Roahre,” Honey said quietly, her throat tightening with emotion. She blinked back angry tears. “But now, I somehow feel as though I married into a lie. You did not tell me the whole truth when you should have.”

  “Nor did you ask,” he said.

  She took a deep breath, “Despite the shock of finding out you were not the real Shandon, despite the odd feelings of loving a cousin who really wasn’t my cousin after all, I followed my heart. I married you based on what my dreams told me, what my heart wanted.” Tears spilled from her eyes, and she hated the weakness. “You said you gave me those dreams. Were those a lie too?”

  He caught her tears upon his palm and flung them into the air. A shimmer transformed the moisture into butterflies that fluttered around her head, landing in her pale hair where they fanned their iridescent wings.

  “My magic is real,” Roahre answered, his voice filled with anxiety. “If I could not have you until it was the correct time, then I could show you what I desired until that moment arrived. Your dreams were still dreams, but they were mine too. Through those magical dreams, we shared one another, loved one another.”

  “I feel so...” No, she could not say it. Although he had lied, she still could not bear to hurt him with her words.

  “Tell me what you feel. Share it with me.”

  She stared deeply into his eyes, willing him to see her thoughts and emotions. “I am angry with you and I feel betrayed.”

  He leaned forward, kissing her trembling lip. “What does your heart tell you?”

  “It tells me…” She continued gazing into his eyes and knew that regardless of the situation, she loved Roahre. She was young, inexperienced, and naïve in many ways, but she also knew her heart was tied for all eternity to the man kneeling before her. She took another deep, shuddering breath. “It tells me that I will always love you.”

  Roahre kissed her again. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, deepening the kiss, their tongues dancing to a rhythm that urged them to tug at clothes, their hands searching for warm, bare skin. He helped her unfasten and struggle out of her dress and undergarment. Roahre stood and disrobed in front of Honey. Her gaze wandered over the muscles moving and flexing beneath his pale verdant skin. He was all male, yet ethereal. Tall and lithe, yet strong and powerful. Pushing his breeches down, his manhood proudly displayed before her, Honey realized that those dreams—their dreams—had come true and she was Roahre’s forever.

  He kicked his clothing aside and knelt, using one knee to spread her legs. A thrill flew through Honey like a bird soaring to freedom. This man, this king, was hers to love, to enjoy. He would take her to the lofty heights of pleasure obtained not by physical pleasure alone, but the heightened intensity of love and passion. Roahre would one day give her children, offspring of a king and queen, their blood full of magic, thus giving the Fae hope for the future of their race.

  Although she questioned the manner in which Raya had allowed things to happen, and the way Roahre had played out the goddess’ ruse, Honey knew she had made the right choice in taking him as her husband. She laid back, her breasts tingling with anticipation, her loins throbbing with the need to feel her husband thrusting into her body.

  “My queen,” Roahre said softly and settled between her thighs.

  Honey whimpered with impatience, spreading her legs wider, inviting him to slide into her pussy.

  His gaze met hers. The weight of his body covered her, and the tip of his cock separated the folds of her moist, swollen mound.

  Raising her hips slightly, Honey wiggled them, enticing him. He shoved into her in one quick, firm movement. She eagerly accepted him, and he took her fiercely, his thrusts frantic, as if he was afraid he would never be with her again after this moment. Intense sensation flowed through Honey’s loins, up over her abdomen and into her breasts, the nipples pert with excitement. She moaned loudly, wanting him harder, faster, and deeper.

  Roahre’s ass pumped furiously, and Honey met his every thrust with one of her own. She felt her inner walls grow wetter, the tightness within her core growing and growing…

  “Please!” she gasped. “Take me to that place now!”

  Roahre’s frantic movements slowed and changed to hard, forceful thrusts that scooted Honey off his tunic and out onto the leaves. She wrapped her legs around his driving hips, letting her body go lax as he pounded into her again and again. He rolled her over in one quick, easy motion, settling her on top of him. Still, the sensation within her body grew, roiling like an impending thunderstorm. Honey whimpered and moaned. The tops of her feet slapped against the ground, the blanket of leaves beneath them snapping and rustling.

  Again, Roahre turned over with her, pinning her beneath his body, piercing her with such intensity that he scooted her across the soft forest soil. The aroma of dry leaves, pine needles and rich, loamy dirt mixed with Honey’s floral scent and her husband’s spiciness. Together, they tumbled across the ground, their hands searching one another’s body. Vaguely, Honey realized they’d crashed over the cheese and fruit, even squeezing the wine out of its bladder as it wet her skin and trickled between her breasts. They rolled to the base of the tree stump clothed in honeysuckle and stopped, unable to go any further. Roahre cupped her shoulders and sat back, keeping their bodies joined.

  “Wrap your arms and legs around me,” he commanded, breathing heavily.

  Honey did so and squealed in pleasure as he stood up, holding her in his arms, his cock still penetrating her. He walked to a nearby tree, placed her back against it and drove into her.

  The rough bark against Honey’s back and his cock repeatedly butting the opening to her womb sent her over that seemingly unobtainable edge. She climaxed and her head flew back to rest against the tree as she howled her pleasure to the darkening forest. A tingling flood of ecstasy flashed through her loins like wild fire. She wanted to buck against him, but she had to hang on and keep his cock seated deeply within her.

  Roahre thrust harder, his rapid breathing harsh, exerted. He stiffened, and Honey knew he had found his place of release. He shouted his pleasure to the treetops. His cock pulsed deep within her, and a hot splash of his seed coated her insides.

  Green and white sparkles shimmered in the air around them, and Honey sensed the new life about to begin within her.

  ***

  Roahre gathered their food and empty wine skin. He shook the dirt and leaves from his outer tunic, but stuffed it into the saddlebag since it was saturated with wine from their romp across the leaves.

  Watching her husband, Honey stood nearby, her nether regions still tingling and throbbing from their passionate lovemaking. He turned, offering her a pleased smile.

  “Raya has left a gift here for you,” he said.

  “Oh?” Honey wasn’t sure whether she should be wary or pleased that the goddess had deemed her worthy of a gift, but as Roahre’s grin widened, she soon relaxed. “Well? Where is it?” she asked in anticipation.

 

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