Author's Note: Thank you to all my readers, reviewers, and subscribers.

Warning: This chapter contains material that is rated M, NSFW, or my personal favourite, NNA.

Of Light

Chapter Twenty Five

- The Banks of the River Nwyn -

Jeb had her by the hand and they were running, running... branches whipped against her face, her lungs burned and threatened to fail. She couldn't remember the last time she had run... perhaps before the possession, before DG had been sent over. She forced her legs to keep up as she was dragged through the trees at a pace she couldn't have possibly kept up by herself. Where he was running to she didn't know, but he could lead her anywhere as long as he kept her safe.

Beside her, around her, the others ran. Someone helped her mother, Pvt. Burrows perhaps; the only knowledge that her mother was still there the gleam of the beads on her dress in the moonlight as they ducked between and around trees.

"Where are we going?" Azkadellia asked, trying to find her voice amid her ragged breathing.

"Away from here," came the only response from Jeb. His grip on her hand was tight, sweaty. Their fingers were entangled, and he pulled her along, weaving around one solid tree and then another. She tried to concentrate on every step landing properly, concentrated on not falling.

Az dared a glance behind them. Through the thick growth, the lanterns and torches chased them. Men were shouting, calling out to each other far behind, and even over the pounding of her feet, the pounding of her heart, she heard them. She was terrified, each breath catching in her throat; she almost had to force each new one.

"Was this part of the plan?" she asked him, ducking down with remarkable reflex to avoid a low hanging branch.

Ahead of her, she heard him chuckle. "No, but it's fun, isn't it?"

She found herself laughing too, a bit hysterically. Fun?

"To the left!" McLauren shouted. Az's head snapped sharply in the direction called out. Their pursuers were closing in on them, catching them fast, trying to trap them with their backs to the river. The river, too fast flowing to enter, too wide and deep to cross. The river, their salvation that would become their undoing.

I can't run anymore... gods, I can't do this... her own voice was ringing in her head.

"Stop!" called out a voice from behind them, one that caused her ears to perk curiously. She felt her legs slow on their own, until the connection of her arm and Jeb's became tight, recoiled, and broke. She stumbled, and Jeb swooped down on her immediately.

"We have to move!" he shouted at her. But she shook her head.

"No, we don't!" she told him, hastily clambering to her feet. The shout tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it, barely able to form her lips around the word through her labored breathing. "Ambrose? Ambrose!"

The shouting all around them stopped. Az turned her head to see her mother stop running far ahead, double back a few steps before collapsing against a tree, gripping the trunk for support. She was speaking to Pvt. Burrows, then walked unevenly towards her daughter.

Jeb was squinting through the trees as the lights came closer. "Your Majesty!" called out the same familiar voice, and Az's heart swelled with hope.

"Ambrose!" she called again, and suddenly, her legs were too rubbery to hold her up. Almost falling to the ground, she tried to catch her breath. Jeb knelt down, a hand on her shoulder, as he watched the lights come ever closer. Voices were calling out, more than she could possibly count. But three words rang through the night, so loud and clear and true that it made the entire ordeal disappear in a wisp of smoke.

"We've found them!"

A body fell down in front of her, almost as out of breath as she. Ambrose's pale face was captured in a gigantic smile, one without dignity or composure, the pure abandon to his happiness etched in every corner of his expression. Az found herself smiling too, his happiness so contagious that she laughed.

An hour later, the company of five was escorted on horseback to the A.R. camp. The men all bowed to their monarch and the heiress to the kingdom. Both women nodded appreciatively, both in a bit of a daze, both exhausted, drained. Near the edge of the camp, Jeb Cain alighted his mount, handed over the reins to a waiting private. Walking slowly behind his two charges, he felt a hand catch him on the arm.

"Andrus wants a word with you," said the voice. Jeb turned to see Ambrose, the advisor, watching him sympathetically. Jeb only nodded, surprised that it had taken Andrus this long to get this message to him. When the search party had found them in the forest, he'd half expected Andrus to come stalking out of the line of men to hand down retribution as swiftly as possible. Oh well, maybe he just wants to savor the moment, Jeb thought with a smirk.

Andrus' tent was larger than all the others. Jeb entered quietly, not bothering to announce his presence.

The general looked up from the small table in front of him. Scattered with maps, the mess on the table was nothing compared to the haggard appearance of the man that stood behind it. Andrus looked without rest, without sustenance, without peace. Bastard probably hasn't slept since the royals went missing Monday.

"What time is it?" Jeb asked him, trying to break the tension of who would speak first. In his head, he tried to rack up his guilty charges. Disobeying direct orders, endangering the life of a princess (though whose fault that one was, he thought was debatable), abandoning said princess (again, debatable)...

Andrus sighed. "I should have you hanged."

Jeb chuckled. "What would be the fun in that? You like me."

The general was shaking his head in angry disbelief. "Cain," he said slowly. "You seem to be missing something."

"Oh? I don't think I am. Okay, my uniform got left behind, but honestly, it was for the better. Let me tell you this, its a really good story –"

Andrus cut him off. "When you showed up at Finaqua, I put you in charge of something very important."

Jeb's jovial mood immediately dropped with this. "Oh... right. That."

"Where is the princess? There should be two here, and yet I see only one." The general nodded through the open tent flap, where across the camp they could see Azkadellia talking to Ambrose. She looked like she were swaying on her feet, but that was no wonder. They were all tired, and Jeb was quite looking forward to finding a tent and a sleeping roll once he got through Andrus' sorry excuse for a debriefing.

"I don't know where DG is," Jeb said slowly. "You'll have to talk to her Majesty if you want the details of that plan."

Andrus clicked his tongue impatiently. "You're going to the Tower. I want you on guard duty in the dungeons, and you'll depart at first light. You are dismissed."

Jeb turned on his heel, biting his tongue as he left the general. Arrogant bastard, the worst kind. Yes, he, Jeb, was arrogant, but he wasn't a bastard, not like Andrus. A bit of a rascal, maybe... he smirked, thinking of all the times his mother had shouted that very word to him as he'd cut across the yard, running from her and her reprimand.

When she saw him, Azkadellia walked towards him. She stayed near the edge of the firelight, and her hands were at her sides; it took him a moment to realize she was holding the sides of her torn dress together, modest now in the company of so many people.

"Jeb," she said softly, smiling as he approached her. "It all worked perfectly. Hass found the camp... told them where we'd be. And we ran like fools." She laughed then, a small quiet laugh. He was silent, not knowing quite what to say to her, surprised that she'd even walked over to see him.

Az noticed that he wasn't speaking, and decided to keep going, wishing that she'd find something he would respond to. "We're leaving for Central City, as soon as the Queen has a conference with the general. We won't stay in the camp overnight, Mother wants us to move to the city as soon as possible." Az smiled at him again, trying to coax him. She leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "I think she misses my father."

Jeb shook his head. "I wish you a safe journey, my lady."

Az's brow furrowed, confused by his distance. "Won't you accompany us to Central City?"

Again, Jeb shook his head, looking off a ways to the soldiers milling around, watching the princess out of the corners of their eyes, as they went about their tasks. Turning back to Az, he shrugged his shoulders. "Andrus has already reassigned me. I'm on prison duty at the Tower."

Azkadellia rolled her eyes, her mouth quirking to the side in an unimpressed way. "No, you'll come with us to Central City."

"Your Highness," he said, catching her eyes, but she looked back at him determinedly, her mouth set in a firm line. She shook her head, and then gave him a ghost of a grin, which quickly disappeared.

"You'll come with us to Central City, and stay on as my personal guard in the palace. That way," she said softly, touching his arm as she moved to walk past him, "you'll be able to see DG and your father the minute they are returned to the city. You don't deserve to get sent out to the Tower, not after all the help you've given us."

Jeb nodded his head appreciatively. "Then I would be honored, Azkadellia."

She smiled at him, noticing the way he had said her name, the kindness in his voice, something she had heard very little of underground. Walking away before she said too much, or before her face softened too much, she walked to Andrus' tent. Already the excitement of the forest was fading away, and her body was threatening to give out. Just one last thing to take care of, she thought with a small smile.

- The Wilds of the West -

With his back up against a tree, Wyatt Cain watched his princess sleep.

DG was curled up in a tangle of roots, laying on top of his service jacket. She'd fallen asleep fast, and every now and again she mumbled something he couldn't quite make out. Why he was watching her so intently, he didn't quite know. His eyes burned with exhaustion, but sleeping, for him, wasn't an option.

How this girl had unhinged him so, he didn't quite know... the tin suit she'd found him in wasn't the only prison he'd been trapped in. Though he mourned his wife, and loved her still, something had changed in the last few days that was turning everything he'd known around on him.

Adora wouldn't like it.

Adora.

She'd want him to find happiness, of that he was certain. But hers was the voice of his conscience now, which rang clear as a bell inside his head, keeping him awake as he watched DG sleep.

She's only a child, merely a few annuals older than Jeb.

Cain closed his eyes. Barely older than his son she might be, but she was definitely not a child, something he hadn't failed to notice; soft, white skin, her plump, pouty lips, small breasts that fit perfectly into the palm of his hand... no, she was not a child.

She's a princess, how do you suppose to get around that one?

It presented a problem, one that he wasn't quite sure how to find an answer. An obstacle, though, no. He'd never been one to let silly little things stop him. Yes she was a princess... but she was a second daughter, about as headstrong and stubborn as he himself was. Yes, he was an ex-Tin Man, tarnished, possibly – probably – damaged beyond any hope of repair. But his heart was more than just a muscle working in his chest; it still beat, and he was still alive. And lately... lately he'd felt an ache in his chest that only seemed to surface when one certain princess was involved.

In her sleep, DG shifted, moaning in what he assumed was discomfort, but even such a simple sound slipping out of her mouth put him on edge. It wasn't right what she was able to do to him, what she could do without even trying. As a man, he prided himself on his restraint, his self-control always assured behind his eyes. Prisoners, he could interrogate without beating them, his son he'd always been able to control as a child without lifting a hand to the boy.

One impetuous little princess, and he was nearly coming undone.

The sky was lightening, but somewhere around five a.m., the clouds had begun to roll in. Now, the black sky fading into soft gray. It would be overcast, and they might see some rain. There was a bite to the breeze that filtered into the little copse he'd found for them to hide in. DG whimpered, her arm flying out, slamming hard into the tree under which she slept, but the impact didn't wake her. Concerned – yes, concerned – he moved over to her, ducking low to keep the low hanging branches off the top of his head.

Cain knelt down beside the sleeping princess, and touched her softly on the arm, calloused fingers sweeping over her smooth skin. "DG," he whispered.

She stirred at the sound of his voice, inhaling deeply as her dreams slipped away. Instinctively, she jerked away when she found him so near. "Is it time to go already?" she mumbled, her words running together in a tired slur.

"Not yet, darlin'," he told her with a soft chuckle. "You were dreaming, and it didn't look pleasant."

With another deep sigh, DG shook her head. She covered her face with her hands, brushing the sleep and her dream from her eyes. "Is it morning?"

"Near enough," he said. "Do you want some water?"

DG shook her head, pulling herself to sitting. "Not unless it's hot and in a bathtub." She closed her eyes, and stretched, arms reaching above her head, back arching. Her head fell back, her bare throat shining in the dim light. DG put a hand on the side of her head, rubbing the sore spot which had laid on the tree root she'd used as a pillow.

"We'll get movin' soon," he said, still kneeling beside her, but looking around. The protective circle of trees with their low hanging branches kept them out of sight, knowing that if they met anyone out in these wilds, hostility was pretty much a guarantee.

"You don't want to get going right now?" she asked, watching him carefully.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "Give you a couple of minutes to wake up."

DG nodded gratefully, offering him a small smile. She nestled back into the tangle of roots, pressing her face against his jacket and closing her eyes. A couple of minutes... it wasn't much, but hey, when you were allowed to go back to bed, you took the opportunity.

She felt his hand on her leg, warm and solid. Her eyes drifted open again, and she found herself staring deep into his eyes. The hazy light allowed her to see his features for the first time since the darkness of the night before, and she thought, a little distractedly, how handsome he was.

"Cain," she said, but her voice faltered, any words that would come after were lost, evaporated in the heat of his steely eyes. She watched as he moved his position from one knee, to two... still watching her, he stretched his long frame out beside her, laying on his side, pressing his body against hers.

"What –" she began to ask, but again her words were lost... only this time, they were lost as his mouth caught hers, pulling her into a long, slow kiss. With one arm supporting his weight, his other hand was free to explore, sliding down her body and gripping at her hip, pulling her possessively closer. Her mind whirling at this unexpected turn, her common sense won out the battle for her tongue, and she pushed up on his chest, breaking their kiss.

"You told me not six hours ago that it wasn't the right time," she told him, holding her hand firmly against his chest.

He smiled that stubborn Cain smile, the know-it-all stretching of his lips. "As it turns out, I can't help myself." The hand on her hip, slid underneath of her, lifting her towards him, the resistance of her arm pushing against his chest nothing compared to the pull of desire. He bowed his head to hers, holding his mouth, still smirking, a few inches from hers. "Is there a problem, Princess?"

Mutely, she shook her head, unable to speak, let alone think of something to say. This is new, she thought absently, as his lips found hers again, feeling a strange sensation in her stomach, like her abdominal muscles were shuddering with anticipation, with the heat of his embrace. Leaning over her, he laid her down, pressing onto her with his deliciously heavy weight. Yes, she'd been in this situation before, but never like this... embarrassed, she realized that he was going to ask, and she was going to have to tell the truth. Not very princess like behavior, now or then.

Kissing Wyatt Cain, she realized, was a euphoria beyond anything she'd ever experienced. His tongue danced along her lower lip, begging entrance, and her chin trembled as she complied. The touch of his tongue to hers was an electric shock, the taste of him sensual, rugged. She stopped trying to push him away, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, gripping both sides of his neck, pulling him towards her though it wasn't possible for him to get any closer.

He shifted, putting a knee between her legs, and his free hand slid away from her back, down past her waist, over the curve of her ass, his hand slipping under her dress to splay his fingers over her thigh; he pulled her leg upwards, hooking it over his hip. His hand drifted upwards, and he broke their kiss to hold her by the chin, his eyes searching hers as he bore down on her.

"DG, if we start this..."

She shook her head and offered him a smile. "We already did start this. Don't stop," she whispered. Compliant, he kissed her again, capturing her so quickly that he stole her breath away. His kiss was fierce, all walls and restraint gone.

DG gasped at the sudden shift, pressing her body greedily against his, moaning into his mouth. His hand returned to her thigh, his palm rough against her bare skin. The weight of his knee pushed between her legs was like heat that burned. She felt him hard against her hip, as his all consuming kiss left her mouth, trailed her jaw. His teeth ghosted against her collarbone, his tongue leaving a trail cold in the crisp morning air. She had no time to feel chilly, had no time to feel anything but the heat of him, of the passion that was quickly pushing them into places she'd only dared dream about.

The bodice of her dress had a few buttons, and deftly he undid them, his hand snaking inside to find her naked breasts. His fingers brushed heavily over her, his mouth leaving her neck to kiss a path down her chest. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and barely able to think of what she was supposed to be doing, she gripped the material of his tunic, pulled it upwards. With a chuckle, Wyatt lifted his head away from her long enough to allow her to pull the shirt off. It fell uselessly to the side, forgotten. As he paid service to her breasts, his warm mouth exploring every inch, she let her hands slide over his broad shoulders, gripping his flesh hard with her fingernails when he pulled one nipple into his mouth with his teeth and sucked hard. He moaned, releasing her.

"Princess," he whispered, whether pet name or title she couldn't tell, the desire in his voice as he gazed down at her body all too evident without the hardness pressing into her to distract her. He pushed his arm straight, holding himself high above her. Every second that passed, the sky grew lighter, and the more of him she could see, the more of him she wanted.

Never had she felt this kind of pull before, never had she ached so acutely. Cain lowered to himself to her, kissing her hard as he pulled the skirt of her dress to her hips, leaving her naked from the waist down and completely at his mercy.

"Wyatt," she whispered, as his hand wound its way from her hip, down between her legs. His eyes caught hers when she said his name, searching her face for assurance that what he did was all right. His hand cupped her, not daring to dip in for a more intimate touch.

"Say yes," he whispered.

She nodded her head, swallowing hard, humming an affirmation. His hand fell away from the warmth between her legs, leaving her feeling bereft. Again, he caught her by the chin, training her eyes onto him, as if she could possibly see anything, anyone else.

"Say yes," he choked, forcing the words.

Her heart pounded harder in her chest. "Yes," she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from his sultry gaze. "Oh God, yes."

His head fell into the crook of her neck, his lips finding her skin, pressing hot kisses to her pulse point. Moments later, his hand was on her again, his calloused thumb finding her center, rubbing it gently, as he pushed two fingers into her. Arching against his touch with a strangled cry, her hands flew to his shoulders, grasping at whatever she could trying to hold herself afloat. Her breath hitched in her throat as his thumb moved in lazy circles, his fingers sliding in and out with the same passive way.

She muttered a few incoherent syllables, her body lost to his touch and her brain a thousand miles away, and yet still grounded here in this passion, her entire being so painfully aware of what he was doing to her. Higher and higher he took her until her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, and despite herself, she cried out.

When she opened her eyes, he was smiling down at her, his tricky hand slowly coasting her out of her throes. When his touch left her, she whimpered, not ready to lose him, even though she knew – or at least hoped for – what came next. Reaching down, so as to leave no doubt about what she wanted – and damn, did she want him – she unbuttoned his fly, pulled down the zipper.

With a naughty grin that caused him to raise his eyebrows, she reached inside his pants, found him with her cold fingertips. A hiss escaped his lips. "Careful there," he managed through gritted teeth.

DG tried out her most winning, innocent smile. "Why should you be the only one that gets to play?" she asked, as she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him a few times – but suddenly, he grabbed her wrist, and yanked her hand away. She looked up at him, her eyebrows knitting together. "But –" she began, but he shook his head, letting go of her wrist to put his hand over her mouth. Her first thought was that she could smell herself on his fingers, and it was incredibly erotic, but whatever her second thought was, it was cut off by the sound of footsteps outside the little thicket they hid in.

"I heard something," said a voice. Male, harsh, human.

DG's heart pounded, her arousal dissipating fast, as if she'd been doused with icy water. She slowly pulled herself to sitting, straightening her dress, her trembling fingers fumbling on the buttons. Cain had already left her side, and was yanking his shirt over his head. She didn't dare make a sound, only eyed him fearfully as he removed his gun from its holster.

Cain took a moment to kneel beside her. Knowing he had her complete attention, he mouthed the words 'Don't move' to her, his forcefulness at this one critical point scaring her more than anything or anyone that could hurt them beyond this protective place they'd created. He sighed, searched the ground for a moment, and tenderly placed a kiss on her temple. Then, he moved away, gone from where she could see; she didn't dare look after him, instead closed her eyes, and counted.

"Az, I'm scared."

A single shot rang out, shattering the silence around her. Her eyes flew open.

Don't move.

She didn't have to. They found her.