FOREVER KNIGHTS: #6 Malevolent Attentions

Riaura came out of Nightway. Somehow drawn across the bailey to the meadow beyond. As she crossed the thin bridge, she glimpsed a Trifler’s Wife flower. Beautiful white and incredibly rare, as it only bloomed at sunrise and had to be plucked then to retain its shape.

She picked it up in awe. Taking in the sweet scent and humming in satisfaction. She took a couple more steps and glimpsed another Trifler’s Wife near the treeline. And yet another deeper in.

“Alazar.” She whispered as she picked up the fourth one. Seeing a distance ahead, between narrow trunks, was another winking white flower growing from a small clump of dirt and perched in a halo of light which beamed in from the thick tree canopy above.

She tentatively took steps toward it, smiling.

Alazareth’s back rolled across a trunk between he and her so he could fall into step next to her. Separated by dense tree trunks. His head lowered and gaze steady on her as he moved so near her, he could observe her expressions.

A slow smile curved her lips.

She knows I’m close.

She reached the tiny opening where the perfect flower glistened. As she crouched over it to tenderly grip it between fingertips she murmured.

“Alazar…”

“Yes?” He asked.

Her eyes flashed upward. Surprised to find him crouched directly before her. Hands to the ground, parallel his bent knee. So close he could’ve touched her shoulder.

“How?” She started.

“I’m quiet.”

“Quiet like a wolf?”

He tilted his head grudgingly. “Do you like it?”

The flower.

“It’s beautiful.” Her fingertips still gripped the stem.

She’s afraid to pick it.

She should be.

“If you pick it. It’s yours forever. As I am. But if you don’t it’ll be here blooming for you next year. And the year after.”

“Blooming for me?”

He nodded solemnly.

Slowly her fingers parted and retracted from the lovely flower. “Are you mine?”

“You know I am.”

She paused and her gaze fell.

Suddenly, he was fearful. Whatever she’s going to say, I’m not going to like.

“I must ask another favor, Alazar.”

He leaned back on his heel. Palms crossing over his bent-up knee. Face hardening his jaw ticked. “You’re going to ask me to kill someone.”

“Another assassin.”

He rose and turned his back walking toward the trees.

She stepped around the flower and followed him back. “Alazar.”

“I’m not your murderer.”

“No, you’re my savior.”

“I’m not that either!” He spun to glare at her. Nearly nose to nose with her as she jerked to a stop.

She reached up to caress his hard, square jaw. Fingertips light. “I don’t know who else to ask…What else to do…”

“No.” He turned shaking his head.

“Alazar!” She shouted. Catching his arm and ripping the sleeve of his tunic as she jerked him around. She pushed her mouth to his so hard he stumbled back a step as she rose onto her toes and pressed her body to his. Molding her lips to his mouth and her mobile tongue sneaking in to lure him into hers.

She tastes like berries. He deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm about her back. He caught his footing as his back bumped into a tree.

She pressed harder against him, forcing him back to the rough bark, as she shaped her body to his sinewed length. She broke away. “I want to live.” She reared forward to kiss him again before he could muster a word.

While she kissed him, she jerked at the laces of her tunic. Letting it slip from her shoulders and expose the perfect weight of her breasts. Without intending to his hands rose of their own volition to cup her naked flesh.

“He’s a Rebel Leader, Garix Trembath.” She moaned into Alazar’s mouth and he knew instantly she’d get her way.

I can’t tell her no. I should push her away and walk from this grove. But he’d missed her. Craved her touch, her warmth. Knew the bliss he’d feel at being within her. Sinking into her warm depths. He was wrapped up in the sweet flavor of berries and the beckoning scent of roses, and all thoughts of walking away were banished from his mind.

Already his body responded to his thoughts.

“Yes, Alazar.” She whispered breathlessly. Pushing her breeches down and shoving his tunic up so her hands could rove his chest and washboard abdomen.

He guided her back to the moss-covered floor. Having her lurch up enough he could tuck his tunic under her back to keep her from the filth.

Her words from before returned to him. “Why don’t you offer me something more than dalliances on a moss floor?”

She does deserve more.