In Chapter Five of our free online read, Song of Marwey, Marwey contemplates her future, knowing she needs to change her life plans to be with the man she loves. But is Pascal ready to give in to the feelings that bind him so tightly to her?
Song of Marwey by Robin D. Owens, Chapter 5
As she walked to the Castle training room where Pascal waited, Marwey faced her future. She could Pair with Pascal and fight battles with him defending their land and die. Or they both could fight and die. Or he could fight and die. That would be the worst. She gulped, her steps hesitated, her palms dampened.
She went on.
The best was simply loving the man.
She carried a box with the unused chain mail she’d requested from her parents. Her sharpened dagger was in her belt.
When she reached the place, she heard him practicing inside — against magically animated models of the horrors that invaded their country that he’d face. They’d face. She’d need armor, too.
Marwey set the box aside. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. A soul-sucker leapt at her, another had two tentacles wrapped around Pascal while a third jumped him. Fear froze her for an eternal instant, then she whipped out her dagger and shot forward, plunging it into the soul-sucker. Power ran down her arm and the monster exploded. She sprang to the second horror and cut off a tentacle.
“Stop spell.” Pascal stared at her. “You fought.” He looked at the shattered dummy. “You destroyed the enemy with Power.”
“To protect myself and you.” She lifted her chin to belie the trembling in her knees, the quivering in her belly. “To save you and myself, I can face and combat anything.”
He stood there, tenderness and hope mixed with the surprise in his dark eyes. Bare-chested, sweat gleamed on his muscles.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” His voice was hoarse, his breathing ragged.
“I want to be with you,” she said. He looked so good. She held back tears. “I can’t be without you.” She’d tried and the hurt had scoured her until she felt hollow with pain. “The pain of being without you overcame all my fears.”
He started to speak, but she pressed her fingers over his mouth. “No, don’t say that I can make a home for you and wait. I can’t. Marshalls are always Paired, and if you’re going to be a Marshall, I want to be Paired with you.” She’d be frantic every time he went to battle and left her behind.
“I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” he said under her fingers, his voice shaky.
“I feel the same, so we must Pair and go to battle together to keep each other safe.” It was the heart’s logic. Better to be with him, to fight for him, than to wait and do nothing.
His lips curved and he nibbled her fingers. Everything except being with him fell away. Their Song surged, with heated desire, spinning passionate notes into her blood until it sizzled. Her body readied for him.
Yearning, passion, urgency reverberated between them until she couldn’t take a breath without aching to feel him on her. Finally, in her.
Blinded with desire, hearing nothing but their ragged breathing, her thundering pulse, she swayed to him. Their bodies clung together, his hot and hard, his hands desperate. He gathered her into his arms and pulled her to the mattress.
They tumbled to it, rolled. The fire racing between them was too hot for thought. Clothes were flung away, heated skin slid against heated skin. She gave. He took. He gave. She greedily enveloped him. They rode together into shattering climax.
For moments, they lay in silence. She was snuggled in his arms when he spoke again, softly.
“My sponsor, Luthan, gave me news of your great-aunt Thealia,” he said, holding her tighter. “He said she has convinced the other Marshalls to Summon a person from another world to fix the magical boundary, as the oracle counseled. Things might change, then.”
“Yes.”
“Wait a while before you start weapons and fighter training,” Pascal whispered in her ear as he stroked her. Her sensitized skin warmed under his touch. Her mind fogged.
But she’d heard the dark, shadowy chord behind his words. He was committed to becoming a Chevalier, and the time ahead would be dangerous. He could die and he’d prefer that she live comfortably rather than as a warrior.
“Don’t you understand?” she asked fiercely. “I’m with you now. Your path is mine.”
“Please wait,” he said. “With your Power to mind-merge, you can learn quickly.” He nuzzled her. “Since I’ve mentally linked with the winged horse, I’m learning to fly faster than I ever expected.”
“I’ve never had any warrior training, though. I should start soon.”
His eyes grew stormy.
Marwey said, “Very well, next year.” She could concentrate on fulfilling other requirements of a Marshall, learning offensive and defensive spells and strategies, perhaps wheedling a winged horse from her parents.
She watched him dress, eyes drawn to the silver medallion, which was his only treasure, then to his wide chest. She appreciated his body, the smooth flexing of muscle and sinew, and sighed at a renewed aching for him.
He glanced down at the box with the chain mail. “What’s this, more goodies?”
Marwey hopped from the mattress and busied herself dressing. “Just some old armor.”
“Which you found?”
“Yes.”
His fists clenched, then he bent down and lifted the mail. It unrolled with soft clinks, but it was obvious the tunic was whole and of the best steel. Yearning lit his eyes.
“No one has used it in a long time,” Marwey said quietly. “You can see tiny flecks of rust. You’ll have to tend it.”
“I’m not a pauper.”
But she knew he couldn’t afford anything better than the standard Soldier’s mail and would have none once he became a Chevalier. “I promise you that no one will miss that armor. It will cost you if it must be altered, so it is not entirely free. Take the gift, Pascal.”
A struggle showed in his eyes, but he stroked the overlapping metal rings as carefully as he had her. “All right.” He set the armor on a scarred table near the end of the bed, then walked to the door.
“There’s something else,” he said with a rough note in his voice. “The Captain of the Castle Soldiers ordered me to start patrolling inside the buildings instead of the courtyards. That’s Second Level Soldier work and I’m only First Level. I think you arranged this, didn’t you?”
She didn’t say anything, but felt her own cheeks heat. “Yes.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“No, and you’re angry with me. Well, I am irritated with you, too, so we are even.”
“What?”
“Why must we always meet in secret? You barely speak to me in public! Our link is strong, and will be evident to others soon.” This was a little hurt that could grow into a wicked thorn in her heart.
He shifted.
“Will you come to my bed tonight?” She ached not only to make love to him, but to snuggle and sleep with him.
“No.”
Marwey flushed with anger. “I know you’re off duty until the morning and free to spend the night where you please.”
“I don’t want gossip about you or for people to say I’m using you and your connections for my own advantage.”
“But we both know better, and when we become a couple–”
“I’m not ready.” His eyes were gentle.
She went to him and kissed him, letting her body soften against him. “Very well.”
He sighed. “I’ll walk you to your room. You were wrong about me having tonight free. I have guard duty at midnight every night now, since I’m patrolling buildings instead of the courtyards.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
“Because I still wouldn’t have come to you, and you should understand that.” He kissed her deeply, hands caressing her. Her thighs loosened.
When he broke the kiss, their breaths were ragged. He stepped back. “I’m going to be uncomfortable for a time, but the other midnight guards will envy me.” He winked, then his expression sobered and he curved a hand around her face. “This bond between us is so strong and sudden, I wonder what it will cost.”
She hugged him hard, reassuring him and herself. “Love doesn’t cost.”
“You’re wrong, pretty Marwey.” He glanced at the dummy monster she’d destroyed. His jaw clenched as he used his Power and the pieces flew back together. When he turned back to her, he smiled sadly and stroked her cheek. “Love exacts the most terrible of costs.”
Copyright © 2005 Harlequin Books S.A.
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