She would be his by day's end.
The Phoenix General urged his horse forward, setting a faster pace at the thought, heedless of the blazing summer sun overhead. It brought him no end of satisfaction to know that his hunt would soon come to a successful end. The Princess of the Southern Kingdom would be his, as she had been meant to be. A princess of each kingdom had been given by the prince to each of his victorious generals as spoils of the battle won.
The princesses, it seemed though, had different ideas.
He still couldn't believe that four simple women, nobly birthed and gently reared, could have slipped through their fingers so seemingly easily. But when his forces had finally breached her keep's walls, he found only an empty bedchamber, a haunting hint of exotic perfume, and a portrait of a hauntingly beautiful woman with raven's wing hair, ruby lips, and dark violet eyes which seemed to mock him with what he could not have.
His hand tightened harshly on the reins, making his horse start and whicker anxiously. Grimly he brought it back into line, soothing the high-strung animal. He was not, he reminded himself, the only one who had faced such a situation.
Glancing sideways at his dark haired, dark eyed traveling companion, he frowned in concern. His fellow warrior, the Dragon General, was the only one of them who had actually come face to face with his given princess, the heir to the Eastern kingdom's throne, and still she'd escaped, wounding him in the process.
Knowing first hand the other man's impressive skills, he could only wonder at what could have transpired to have that happen. Yet, the other man had refused to say, even to their prince, simply withdrawing into a dangerous brooding state, exploding into temper at the slightest provocation. He only seemed to come alive in those moments of rage or when he sighted an auburn-haired or green eyed wench, though he never seemed to find the one that he was searching for, which would again sink him into the morass of depression.
That had been one of the reasons for bringing him along. The prince had insisted that his Phoenix not go unaccompanied and directed that the Dragon go with him. The Phoenix General knew it was not for his protection, but for the Dragon's distraction. He could only hope it would work, though things were not looking well. He seemed to be growing darker and more bitter with each league they traveled toward the Temple of Selene.
The place where his quarry had hidden herself away.
It had been weeks before his spies were able to find out where the princess had fled, so thoroughly had she covered her trail. And even then she had been out of his reach. But the dark-haired princess' portrait had strangely affected him, weaving a sort of perverse enchantment that brought to mind witches. He had immediately begun searching how to bring her out of hiding with only one thought. She would be his.
Now, he thought, watching as the imposing white marble walls came into view, his time of waiting was about to come to an end.
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"You don't have to do this, you know, Flame."
The former Divinity, Princess of the Southern lands, her dark locks and amethyst eyes hidden beneath the ceremonial cloak, glanced upward at her imposing friend, who was hovering protectively close, as if she could fend off the threat through sheer force of will. The woman's green eyes snapped and glittered with a barely suppressed wrath when Flame simply answered, "You know I must."
"It's indecent!" growled the other woman, bristling and pacing around the temple's anteroom. "Barbarous!"
"Don't worry," Flame assured her solemnly, placing a hand on her friend's arm. "He can't keep me for long, I assure you. I thank you for accompanying me, Terra."
The mighty auburn-haired woman's eyes softened from those of an angry mother bear to those simply of a mother and she hugged the petite woman fiercely. "I couldn't let you face it alone, even if I can only safely go as far as the steps. I only wish I could spare you having to go at all."
"You know that our lives mean nothing next to those of our people," chided Flame with unusual gentleness for her. The former eastern princess, simply nodded, acknowledging the truth of her friend's words. "And he," continued Flame, making an expressive shrug, "is family. So I go."
"I thank Selene that I have no one they can use against me as they have used your kinsman. Be on your guard, Flame. They are dangerous, dangerous men." Terra pressed a delicately carved decorative wooden pendant into Flame's hand. "Take this and use it only if you must. You know what it contains, so be careful."
The soft trip-trap of approaching horses' hooves made both women go silent and statue still. Flame tied the pendant around her neck by its leather thong and nodded to Terra. Forcing themselves into motion, they went, each step as measured and melancholy as a funereal march.
Flame dared not stop until she reached the edge of the top step. If she had, she was afraid that she would have given into her fears and run for the temple's most holy inner sanctum where the sacred flame burned, never to come forth again. And if that had happened, the old priest would die. She could not let it happen, so she went to face her destiny.
Very reluctantly, she was forced to conclude that, for all that he was a wretched blackmailer, he was sinfully handsome. His short blond hair, she could see, gleamed like the rich golden wheat in the fields around the temple and he was cloaked in the scarlet of her people. Flame wrinkled her nose at that. The presumption of his act was not lost on her, nor the message it contained. All that should have been hers, including her very self, was now his. Arrogant bastard! He had not come alone either, traveling with a retinue of his soldiers and another man, garbed in blue, whom she knew only through Terra's description of her escape through the storms.
Evidently Terra recognized the other man too, for beside her Flame could feel the tall woman stiffen and heard the sound of her sharply indrawn breath as the man with the long mahogany hair drew forward riding a fine chestnut steed.
The blond warrior cantered his horse forward to the very foot of the gleaming marble steps. Two women in white, their faces hidden in the depths of their hoods, stood at the top. He wondered which was his.
"Princess Divinity..."
Flame slowly lowered the hood of her stainless cape. A sudden gust of wind caught her hair, making it flutter like a banner of black silk. "I was once she whom you now call. My name is now, by Selene's grace, Flame."
With a jerk of the general's head, the prisoner to be exchanged, bound and gagged, was brought forward. Flame heard her friend's growl and placed a calming hand on her arm. "Peace, Terra."
"War, more like," hissed the other woman almost inaudibly. "Curse them all."
The corners of Flame's lips twitched. The woman had read her mind, or so it seemed.
The blond general spoke, his voice ringing through the brittle silence. "We had an agreement, princess. Your freedom for the prisoner's. When I have you he will be released unharmed to go his own way."
Again Flame found herself engulfed in a wild, impulsive hug that knocked Terra's own hood back and made Flame feel as if her ribs were being crushed. She could feel tears on her cheeks and wasn't sure if they were Terra's or her own.
"Farewell," choked out Terra, fighting back sobs. "Go with Selene, sister…and give him hell."
"Go with Selene always, Verity," Flame said as she returned the hug, deliberately using her friend's former name, the name she had given up when she entered the temple. Goading the other warlord might be the last choice bit of amusement she would have, and so she was determined to make the most of it.
As she turned around and started down the stairs, she chanced a glance at warrior in blue and felt a certain smug satisfaction. His midnight eyes burned as they stared beyond her to her proud sister who stood so close, yet beyond his reach.
The second her feet hit the bottom-most step, Flame felt herself being yanked up onto the blond man's horse. For the second time she mentally called him a bastard, recognizing the fierce black beast as her deceased father's prized stallion. She found herself face to grinning face with the man who had turned her ordered life upside down. The look of gloating satisfaction he wore made her want to hit him, so she tightly clenched her fists together to control the violent urge as he pulled her to sit before him, between well-muscled thighs.
"You swore to release the priest," she bit out, working on sheer nerve at that point.
If it was possible, his grin widened. "So I did."
He barked a command to the soldier who held the captive. "Release the old man!" Thinking better of it, he shot a quick look at the soldier and clarified. "Carefully."
With a quick swipe of a blade the ropes that bound the feeble priest, a distant but much loved relative of the princess, were slashed and he slumped to the ground, too fatigued from his ordeal to even lift his bald head, let alone stand. Terra snarled, but dared not go to him while the mahogany-haired warrior lurked nearby. Flame let out an anguished cry, that was cut off as the general who held her yelled another command to his troops and they wheeled about to leave.
Only the Dragon General remained, glaring up at his wayward green-eyed vixen. "If you dare, at any time during the rest of your days, to again set one toe outside that antechamber door I will have you." he warned her grimly, "And I will have you, Princess. Count on it."
Terra's chestnut hair, spilling loosely around the shoulders of her unadorned robes, danced in the breeze as she simply turned away, her voice trailing back over her shoulder as she retorted boldly. "Not in this lifetime, General."
The Dragon General snarled as he kicked his horse viciously and thundered away toward his own echoing, empty castle in the eastern lands.
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The Phoenix General set a swifter pace on the ride south. He had plans for the princess, but had no intention of putting on a show for his rough soldiers. Still, he was more than pleased as he eyed her. Even with the hateful look on her face, which was born of mood, not her native features, she was exceptionally beautiful.
"You've led me a merry dance," he informed her, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe it.
"I certainly tried," she retorted hotly before turning her head away and staring glumly at the horizon.
They had ridden in silence for some time when, without warning, she moved abruptly, reaching for the hood of her cloak. He caught hold of her wrist and she let out a yelp, holding onto the horse's mane for dear life as it danced nervously. "What are you doing?" she snapped without thinking.
He shot her a narrow-eyed look. She'd never realized that cool ultramarine eyes could look so heated when they were angry. "I could say the same, Princess. Were you going somewhere or planning something I should know about?"
Her face turned red with temper and she glared at him. "I was merely attempting to pull up my hood and cover my face so that I do not get burnt to a cinder by the sun, you stupid fool. Unlike yourself and your men, I am not brown as a nut. I prefer my skin fair and supple rather than reddened and tight and sore."
The barbarian warlord glared right back. "You had best learn your place, Princess, if you intend to not suffer upon your return home. I rule now, and I will rule my household. However, wear your hood until we arrive. I will not have it said that I tortured women," he growled, eyeing her ivory skin as if it was personally designed to annoy him rather than entice him. Actually it was doing both. "But do not think your precious maiden goddess's acolyte's cloak will protect you much longer."
As if to underscore his point, he dropped her wrist, gliding his hand up shockingly high on her thigh. Flame sucked in a breath. "Bastard!"
"Finally right, Princess. That precious cloak of purity you wear will be burned at the castle, first thing. I vow, if it would not result in outright revolt by the populace, that blasted temple would be razed until it was no more than a heap of rubble, and your precious friend Verity would have no place to hide." His lips twisted in a mockery of a smile. "However, I have faith it will happen eventually. The Dragon General is not a patient man and he wants her badly."
Flame smiled tightly. "I fear you've not heard all of my secret talents, sirrah." Her tone was contemptuous as she continued. "Aside from a gift for disappearing, my maternal line has the gift of the seers and I have witnessed visions of the future. I gift you now with a glimpse few ever get. Selene will endure, for she is eternal…and the Dragon will never have Terra. So sorry to disappoint you."
With that parting shot, she yanked up her hood, effectively shielding herself from his heated looks, if not from his touches.
He had shown no qualms whatsoever about touching her, laughing when she swatted at his naughty hands and loudly denounced him as a whoreson and a pervert. "Princess," the scoundrel had simply whispered for her ears only, "you'd better get used to this."
The fact that she was, in spite of herself, tempted by his too-familiar touch frightened Flame more than she could have expressed.
She was near to exhaustion when they arrived at the southern castle. Yet not once had she given in to her body's demands to relax against him for support. She had remained rigidly upright, touching as little of him as she could get away with while pure stubbornness keeping her going
It was very, very late…or perhaps very early, rather, as their mounts clopped beneath the portcullis and into the central courtyard. Flame blinked owlishly as she looked around. It seemed like an eternity since she'd last been there and yet, the place seemed hardly changed.
When they came to a stop the Phoenix General dismounted, then slid her off before him, letting her body brush against every inch of his until her feet touched the ground. She fought nearly overwhelming urge to kick him, realizing it would only hurt her sandaled feet.
A groom rushed forward to take his horse and Flame bit her lip as she saw first the shocked recognition and then the pity in the old man's rheumy eyes. He had put her on her first horse when she was but a girl and he knew exactly why she was here now.
"Your highness," he simply said, bobbing his head before bowing to the general and leading the horse away.
The general scowled, realizing for the first time what effect the princess' presence would have on the inhabitants of the castle. Thought of it made him inclined to be snappish and ill-tempered. Imperiously, he snatched up a torch, pointing with it to a spot on the cobblestones where a pile of old dry straw lay. "The cloak, milady. Now."
Gritting her teeth, Flame slid off the virginal white wrap and deposited it where he indicated, though she shivered in the cool night air. The rest of her light temple robes provided little enough warmth.
Flames were licking merrily up the cape as he prodded her upstairs, finally resorting to scooping her off her feet and carrying her when she did not move fast enough to suit him. He set her down only when they reached the lord's chamber, shooting home the heavy door's bolts. He was pleased to see that one lock was set high enough that the petite princess couldn't reach it, making escape impossible. She would stay where she was supposed to.
There was food and wine, but they were both so tired that neither even dreamed of partaking. With a gentleness that shocked her, he gave her a very slight shove toward the bed. "Disrobe and get in."
When her face went white, he shook his head. "Not tonight, princess. You are exhausted and saddle sore. Just take off your things so I can assure myself you hold no weapons and go to sleep. I shall do the same."
Hectic color flooded Flame's cheeks and she slipped off the light robes in a flash, darting beneath the heavy quilt and yanking it up to her chin. When he slid in next to her and tugged her bare body against his, she groaned, mentally dredging up every curse she could think of, silently raining them down on his head in the dark. Before she finished, though, dreamless sleep claimed her.
The sun was high when Flame awoke to the sounds of a knock at the door. Heedless of the fact that he was entirely naked, the Phoenix General answered, taking a bucket of warm water and a tray of food from a blushing maidservant before re-bolting the door with a gruff command to not return until called for.
Flame sunk lower into the bedclothes praying that Selene would strike one of them down before he realized she was awake. But the goddess was either not with her or, more likely, was not that type of goddess.
"Enough of playing possum, Princess." He loomed over her. When she chanced a peek, she was relieved to see he'd at least put on his trousers, though he was still quite bare-chested. "Even though your hair looks most lovely spread across my pillows, we've slept quite well enough by now. Bathe and then I will feed you."
Feed her…as if she was a mewling, helpless babe. It was beyond humiliating. At her impatient look, he merely smiled, saying, "I'm not fool enough to put anything sharper than a bread trencher in your hands, milady. I feed you or you go hungry, but it will be your choice."
Fuming, especially when he refused to look away, Flame hurried through her bath and slid into the light day dress which he had somewhere found for her. She let out a stifled squeal as he caught her about the waist, pulling her onto his lap and she blistered his ears for it, which seemed to amuse him, especially when he ended it by pressing a glass of morning ale to her lips and she was forced to either drink the stuff or drown in it.
"Bastard," she hissed, when he removed the cup.
His brows shot up so far they nearly disappeared beneath his golden bangs. "My dear princess, such charming words. You repeat them so often that I believe they must be an endearment in this country. Such an odd custom. But as such, I will treasure them always."
Flame nearly choked on her fury.
A wickedly mischievous look twisted his features as he cupped her cheek in his hand. "Why so wroth, my sweet? Are you not glad to be home? I am."
"This is not your home," Flame snapped, giving into her worst nature and slapping him across the face hard, "and it never will be, damn you!"
His arms tightened around her nearly to the point of pain. His face, the print of her hand livid on his cheekbone, was scant inches from her as he coldly spoke. "MY lands. MY home. And now, MY princess." And with that, his lips closed over hers in a kiss that was part punishment, part ravishment, and all seduction.
Her senses spun as his lips played over hers, demanding a response. But when he pulled away, grinning lazily, shame flooded through her. She ripped herself from his grasp and stumbled back out of reach, glowering at him.
He was so smug. So disgustingly confident that he could seduce her into forgetting what he had done. But she would not forget and she would not be used by him or any man.
"You may temporarily have the lands and the castle, sir," she informed him, "but you will never, EVER have me."
His chuckle was like the lash of a whip on her raw nerves. "Oh, I think I will. And after that kiss," he brushed his fingertips across his lips, as if savoring the memory, before continuing, "I think it will be a mutual pleasure." Tauntingly he predicted, "I'm going to tie you to me mind, body and soul, little princess. So tightly you'll never be free. And you'll enjoy it."
The raven-haired princess growled audibly, infuriated that she could still taste the bastard on her lips. "Over my dead body!"
It was all the warning he would get.
Before he could move, she snatched the harmless-looking pendant from around her neck, snapping the decorative seal and swallowing the contents. He leapt to his feet and snatched the trinket, hurling it away, but it was too late.
"What have you done?" he howled, grabbing her. His fingers bit painfully into her shoulders as he shook her like a child's rag doll. "Damn you! What did you take?!"
She laughed then, the sound pealing out like church bells. "Poison, of course."
"Dammit! Why?!"
At his look of horror, Flame laughed again, lifting her hands. "I said I would come to you, but I never promised to stay. You won't use me. No one uses me. Keep the lands if you can…they're nothing compared to my freedom."
Challengingly, she eyed him and invoked her power. Before his shocked gaze, the violet of her eyes seemed to bleed to a doomed, burning crimson. Flames leapt up in her palms. He could feel the scorching heat and staggered back. Abruptly she hurled the twin fireballs at the bed. The down-filled mattress and filmy bed curtains flared up in an instant, then the wild flame began climbing up the wall and spreading out over the paneled ceiling. Supremely confident, she gazed at him serenely, her eyes reverting back to smoky amethyst.
Giving an encompassing wave of her hand, she observed, "If you wish to save YOUR lands and YOUR home, my general, you'd best hurry, I think, before they are consumed in MY inferno. Of course if you cannot, then perhaps they were never meant to be yours in the first place, as I never was."
"Curse you, witch!" he bellowed in impotent fury, shouting an alarm before racing to her side as she collapsed, the effects of her friend's herbal potion beginning to take painful effect, dulling the fire in her eyes. Heedless of the fact that the chamber was almost fully engulfed, he cradled her against his chest, ignoring the choking smoke and hungry flames and the searing intense heat that blistered his flesh.
"No, the curse is yours, Phoenix General," Flame murmured faintly, as her expressive eyes closed for the last time. "For whatever else befalls you in life, whenever you see a flame, however small, you will be cursed to recall that this once you lost…and you…will forever…remember me."