Marcail ascended the stairs, careful to keep her ears on alert all the while she found her way to the second floor. She had to open a few doors to find Galen's room. After the third try, she finally deduced that she was in the right room. As soon as she opened the door, she was overwhelmed by the sensual and exotic smell of him. Walking into the room, she could almost feel the traces of her magic on everything in the room. She lit a few candles on the dresser beside the door to get a better look. The soft glow illuminated a room twice the size of her guest bedroom upstairs. His sprawling four-poster bed looked like it was built to accommodate more than two people. The bed was right below a large window spanning the width of his bed, and moonlight pooled on the sheets. To the right side of the room there was a desk, with a big stack of books on it, and a sheet of paper sticking out of one of them.

Curious to know what type of stories he was interested in, she walked to the desk, setting the candle down and picking up the first book. She furrowed her brows as she realized the book was written in Common. She opened the book up to the place that the parchment was holding. What caught her attention first was the parchment, which was written in Thalassian.

Nellan,

Your bride-to-be is my captive. If you ever want to see her again, you know where to find me. Bring twenty thousand gold in a chest with you when you come. Come alone.

-A Friend

It looked like he had written on the back of the paper, but when she turned it over, she found that the writer had scribbled out the most of the text. Like they had tried to write this note over and over again. She tried to read the words, but they had been scratched out too well for her to make out anything coherent.

"That was what I have been working on since we've been here," Galen's voice murmured behind her. Marcail's eyes widened and she spun around to see that he had entered the room without her hearing him. He had shed his jacket and his clothes were still wrinkled from the forest. "As you can see, I haven't been very successful in sending it."

"Are you ever going to send it?" She asked, raising a brow. The gravity of the situation grazed her mind. His gaze darkened, as he closed the short distance between them and trapped her with her rear to the desk. He reached behind her and took the paper from her hand, and slipped his other hand around her waist. After discarding the parchment on the desk top, he pulled her body to his. He lowered his cheek to her forehead and whispered in her ear.

"Do you want me to?" He nipped at her ear, softly raking his teeth against her flesh and she shivered against him. Immediately, her body responded to him. Her core melted for him, as she felt the familiar wetness begin to pool between her legs. That was so unfair. He didn't wait for an answer before he pulled her up to sit on the desk, and gripped his hands under her knees to sit her right on the edge. She reached for him, letting her hands start to unbutton his shirt. She pulled his shirt off of his shoulders as his naked chest was bared in front of her. Settled around his neck was the necklace that held her magic. The familiar glow of emerald green lit her eyes. She felt the call in her ears and her hands froze and hovered over the gem.

"Hey," his voice interrupted her, as he covered the pendant with his hand. "Be here with me."

He pulled the necklace over his head and placed it on the bookshelf next to them, out of her reach. He drew her into his arms and captured her lips. The mage felt the temptation to reach for her magic, but when her lips parted he pushed his tongue past to meet hers. She sighed and melted to him, returning his caresses. Her fingers brushed against his searing skin and he sucked in a breath. She trailed her fingers lower, feeling his abs and tracing down to his belly button.

He pressed his forehead to hers and pulled her legs tighter around his hips. But Marcail didn't stop her fingers from exploring him, as she ventured lower, using her thumb to stroke a trail of dark, crisp hair that led into his pants. He drew in a ragged breath, and bunched her skirts tighter in his hands. She started on his trousers when she felt him start to furiously pull at her corset strings. They weren't as tight as before, and when it came undone, her head spun less. That was, until his hands pushed her panties to the side and he started caressing her slippery slit, still wet with their melding juices. She gave a soft moan and his lips melded with hers. Once he freed himself from his shirt, he pulled her from the desk and peeled the dress from her body. She quickly helped him from his trousers, and his erection sprung free and settled against her soft belly. She shuddered as the heat radiated off of him. He guided them to the bed, stepping backwards, and caressing her round bottom.

Marcail felt the cool breeze from the open window and shivered as her nipples pebbled harder and her skin grew gooseflesh. Galen let his calves meet the bed and he fell back, pulling the mage into him and off of her feet. She settled her bottom on his lap and he kissed her hungrily.

"Light, Galen," she murmured, as he slowly suckled at her lip. Her desire engulfed her in red hot waves pulsing her body. "What have you done to me?" She felt the tremors in his chest as he gave a hearty chuckle.

"More like what have you done to me, little mage?" He took her hand in his and pushed it to his loins, so she could feel the hard length of him in her palm. She flushed deeply, and started to shy away. He took his other hand let his finger circle a nipple. He shifted her back, positioning her to hover over his throbbing length.

"I have to go back at some point," she said, breathless, as he sat up and held her in his arms, kissing her collarbone. He kissed and nipped his way to her ear.

"Don't think about that right now." He rasped, "right now, you belong to me." And he proved to her his words as he sheathed himself completely. She gasped, jerking in his grip. She grasped him in his embrace, seeking stability with his massive shoulders. He gave her a few moments before he moved within her. A moan escaped her before she could try to stop it.

The pain was much less than the first time, but as soon as he moved within her it had disappeared. Instead, he bucked hard, hitting her right in a spot that made her see stars. She held on to him, burying her face in his shoulder and gasping while he pleasured her.

Quickly, she felt that tightening sensation where her body writhed in pleasure. She found herself being wound tighter and tighter, knowing he was the only one who could give her release. She called out his name as she came crashing down, squeezing and convulsing on his throbbing rod. His fingers gripped her tighter as he came deep inside her wet sheath. He collapsed on the bed, and dragged her with him as he held her in an embrace. Both of them panting from their excursions. Finally, Galen caught his breath and rose from the bed. He went to his chest of drawers, where a pitcher of water and basin were neatly displayed with clean cloths. Marcail rolled to her side and couldn't help but admire the view of his taut backside. The glow of the candles danced over his powerful back muscles and reflected a sheen of perspiration. A distracting thought crossed her mind and she nibbled her lip.

"Why did you think I wasn't a virgin?" She asked. He poured water over a cloth before turning to her.

"It crossed my mind a time or two. The way you kissed me and responded to my advances, you seemed comfortable with me." He winked and she playfully rolled her eyes at him. "I just figured you had just never had a real lover before."

"You thought Nellan and I-"

"No, I did not think that," his gaze grew dark. "And I don't want to think about that," he said, advancing on her with squared shoulders. She swallowed hard, giving herself a quick reminder not to make Galen jealous. If looks could kill, she wasn't too sure she'd survive the next glare. Then, he brought the cloth between her legs and gently cleaned their fluids from her swollen sex. The cool linen brought a small amount of relief to her folds. She gave in to the feeling, sighing and relaxing back into the bed.

"Ohh, that feels like heaven." His eyes held less anger than before with her admission. She felt that he lingered a little longer for her pleasure, before he turned the cloth on himself. He tossed the cloth away from them before climbing into the bed with her. He wrapped a massive arm around her naked form and pulled her into his body, with her small back nestled safely in his chest. She leaned against him, letting her head roll back into his neck.

"Goodnight, Princess," he whispered, and she felt her eyes close by themselves.

.

Sarah awoke with a terrible start, causing her to shoot up from the bed she lay in and shake like a tree in a storm. She slapped a hand to her flushed forehead and tried to catch her breath.

"Easy, mistress," a soft voice spoke to her from a few feet away. Her eyes darted to the sound and saw a human priestess rise from her seat to tend to her. Looking around, she quickly deduced that she was in hospital in the Cathedral of Light. Confusion made her knit her brows.

"I am in the Cathedral of Light." She declared.

"Yes, of course, mistress." The young priestess said as she tried to soothe the warlock. "You were brought in when you were unconscious yesterday." The girl moved to a rolling tray beside her as she rustled through a few bottles.

"What happened?" Sarah asked as she stared up at the stone celing above her.

"We were hoping you could tell us," the priestess said, as the tinkling of vials blended into the background. Sarah closed her eyes and saw flashes of memories in her mind.

A dark alley in the mage district. She wore a covered cloak, trying to protect herself from the rain. She sealed a letter and sent it off with the enchanted mailbox.

"Miss, where's the Auction House?" A heavily accented woman's voice came from behind her. As Sarah turned, the figure shoved an arm toward her, and pain exploded in her gut. Gasping, she slowly looked up to her attacker as she clasped her middle, but the cloaked woman was already gone. Pain like she had never experienced raced through her and she collapsed on the wet cobblestone street. The world spun around her, and she heard the shout of a nearby guard. The last thing she saw was the sky pouring down on her face.

"I'm not quite sure," Sarah confessed.

"Well," the girl smiled, "you certainly have a very dutiful husband. He has come by every day since you've been ill. He has brought extensive healing potions and rare herbs from the north just to see you recover."

"There must be some mistake. I have no husband." Sarah answered. The girl lowered her eyes.

"I beg your pardon, mistress. It was not my place to presume." She sat down on the seat next to the bed. "Are you feeling any pain? If not, I must be on my way. I have other patients to attend to."

"I am fine, thank you." The warlock answered, slightly confused as to why the priestess was treating her so respectfully.

"My name is Tara, please don't hesitate to ask if you need anything." The girl rose and opened her curtained room and politely closed it behind her. Not a few minutes later, the curtain burst open and she locked eyes with Darrick. She felt a rush of adrenaline sweep through her body.

"You're awake." He said, almost breathlessly. She was speechless as he closed the curtain behind him and came up to her bedside. He threw his arms around her and held her close. "Light, when I found you in that alley I thought I'd lost you." She feared the paladin had robbed her of the ability to speak while he clung to her in his plainclothes. She had never really touched him this close before. Under her fingers were warm and hard muscles, shaped by years of hard training and discipline. His warmth seeped into her and brought a flush to her face as images of her beneath those same muscles, unclothed and participating in lewd acts. She jerked away from him like she had been burned and the paladin immediately released her.

"Forgive me, that was improper." Darrick tried to hide his embarrassment and a hint of pain as he interpreted rejection from her. Sarah could do nothing but shake her head, still robbed of her voice. "I was so worried, especially when I learned that poisons were used for your attack. These were potent and rare rogue herbs that coated the blade of your assassin's weapon."

"How did you know where to find me?"

"I was on my way to see you, when I saw your assassin disappear before my eyes after stabbing you. If I had been a few minutes later-" a choking sound in his throat cut off the rest of his words. The warlock felt like she was drowning in confusion. She watched as the paladin quickly regained his composure. "So, I quickly threw you over my mount, and brought you here."

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes drifting away to settle on the blankets in her lap. A chill air of awkward silence settled between them.

"I wanted-" Sarah tried to break the silence, just as Darrick spoke.

"There's something-" Darrick stopped himself as he heard her speak. "I'm sorry, you go first." He nodded to her. Sarah cleared her voice and began again.

"I wanted to let you know, I think I have found the key in breaking the curse on Marcail." Darrick's interest peaked in his gaze. "I have found an abyss crystal, that has been in The Slaughtered Lamb for some time. It has absorbed some of the dark magic that the inn has, so I think it should be powerful enough to unbind my spell." Darrick shifted uncomfortably with the mention of dark magic. Something Sarah picked up on immediately and she rolled her eyes in response.

"Look, I know you don't approve of who I am, but I am trying to make it right."

"I know you are, Sarah." The paladin nodded in agreement. "But right now, you are in no position to move from that bed."

"Don't be silly, I'm fine." She tossed her head, as her chestnut locks followed suit.

"I'm serious," he repeated. "That poison was specifically brewed for spell casters. You will need to rest."

"Just try and stop me," she taunted, spinning in her bed and swinging her legs over the edge. Just as she finished the movement, the world around her spun with her, as dark spots prickled her vision. She felt warm, strong arms wrap around her to steady her as she went limp. The smell of new leather and clean linen filled her nostrils, and she reached out to steady herself on powerful arms. The muscles beneath her fingertips contracted with tension. She was close enough to feel his warm breath on her face, and her body shivered with excitement. No, stop that! She scolded herself, as she tried to release herself. Blinking quickly to try and recover her vision, she looked up to see Darrick's concerned, warm brown gaze staring back at her. He seemed to have picked up on her shiver, and interpreted it as being cold. He snaked one arm under her knees and tucked her back into the hospital bed.

"Sarah, for once stop being so stubborn," he released her body as he pulled the covers up around her. "I will write to Galen and inform him of the situation. If he is in a rush, he will just have to bring the blood elf here to get the spell reversed." Sarah felt a strange sensation pooling at the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, she just wanted Darrick to leave. If he sensed her arousal, she would never be able to forgive herself.

"Okay." She replied. The paladin's eyes widened in surprise. Convincing her was easier than he had anticipated.

"Good," he nodded. "I will write that letter immediately. Just try and rest and let your body recover. If you need anything, just let Tara know." He leaned in to her body once more, and her senses pulsed with heat with his proximity. Her breathing grew shallow as he dipped his head down to her face. She nibbled her lower lip in uncertainty as her blue eyes met his deep brown ones. Darrick changed his coarse, and left a brotherly kiss on her head, before moving away. Sarah let out a silent sigh of relief. Suddenly, she felt exhausted, as if she had climbed the steps to the Black Temple.

"Be well," the paladin bowed his head, before leaving the curtained room, closing it behind him for privacy.

Sarah sank deeper into the pillows under her head and back as she closed her eyes. If I dream of him, I swear I will maim the next paladin I see. She promised herself.

.

The morning light made it's way through the cracks in the heavy curtains. Marcail blinked sluggishly in the light. Something deep inside her felt settled and protected. She sighed and drank in the feeling. It was such a welcome feeling over the grief and anxiety she had been experiencing the past few months. She felt new, almost reborn from her old life. She thought back to the warmth Galen had provided for her all night. She smiled and rolled over, only to quickly frown when she discovered his absence beside her. She shot up in the covers, grasping at the sheets to cover her exposed breast. Suddenly, the door to the room creaked open and Marcail felt her heart stop. When she saw the handsome night elf with a tray of food, her heart lightened.

"Good morning, my princess," he grinned, closing the door behind him. He brought the tray to her and lay it on the bed. Pastries, fruits, and fresh bread of many colors decorated the tray.

"Light, Galen, this is enough food for five orcs. Who else were you planning on feeding?" She lightly teased, as she took a slice of bread with dried berries and nuts baked into the center.

"After a night like that I could eat five orcs on my own," he teased back, joining her on the bed, and kissed her cheek. As the sun came up they had made love twice more before falling back asleep. Marcail flushed at the memory of their tangled limbs, panted breaths, and racing hearts. Galen watched her as her blush splashed on her high cheekbones and across her dainty nose. Compared to him, she was sweet and innocent, but eager to learn. It was a delectable surprise he had found under her skirts, and as addicting to him as arcane magic was to her.

However, he found himself wanting more of her, dying to quench his thirst. Each time he had her last night, he found the next time much more satisfying. He watched her as she nibbled on her piece of bread, and delicately chewed while eyeing the tray of food, deciding what she wanted next. As she finished the bread, her tiny pink tongue came out and swept along her lips for crumbs. Completely forgetting his own food, Galen leaned over and stole a kiss from her damp lips. He brushed his own tongue over where hers had been, savoring her sweet flavor, before pulling back to admire her once more. The mage gazed up at him, breath short and eyes dewey and innocent. Galen felt the tug in his orbs as his member grew with hunger for her again.

"We're never going to leave this room today, are we?" Marcail asked with a sly smile. Galen grinned, and grabbed a pastry and a handful of moonberries.

"I wish I had the time to just stay in here all day," he admitted. "But I have to take my sisters to Darnassus. I also have some business there to attend to before all the shops close."

"So what am I to do while you are away?" A blonde eyebrow raised at him, as she took a piece of smoked ham.

"Lavena will remain here for the day, she is putting away the dresses from last night. If you would like to keep her company, you may. My father is here as well. Darine left early for Northrend this morning for training, and it should be a few weeks before we see her again. Isla and Melluna will be accompanying me to Darnassus. We will be back by sundown."

"Hmm." The mage hummed thoughtfully. "I thought I saw a library on the first floor. Could I have access to that?"

"Princess, you may go where you like," he said, but quickly followed with, "so long it is on Moonblade grounds."

"So I'm still a prisoner?" She dared to push him, wondering how far he would let her go. And how much he would let her mouth off.

"Yes," he countered, with a chill in his voice. "You are still my prisoner, Marcail. You may not leave the grounds. Lavena has been instructed to keep her eyes on you."

His mistrust stabbed at her chest, but she quickly used her logic to hide her emotion. Of course nothing has changed. She would be a fool to forget it, and wise to remember it always. The warrior picked up on her change of heart, and let out a grunt of frustration. He abandonded the food on the tray and went to his wardrobe to pick out his garb of the day. Dropping his linen trousers with his back to her, he picked out a pair of dark leather breeches to replace them with. Marcail's eyes immediately fastened on to his firm buttocks. Her mouth watered, and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the food.

"Do you like what you see, princess?" He mused, and she quickly averted her eyes back to her food.

He pulled on a crisp, linen shirt over his body, and turned to face her. He wrangled into his leather breeches, never taking his eyes off of the naked beauty in his bedsheets. Once he fastened a leather belt around his waist, he strode toward her, and cupped her chin, forcing her eyes to him.

"I asked you a question, Marcail," his amusement danced behind his golden gaze, reminding her that her bed partner was not of her species.

"Yes," she answered, almost breathlessly. Her honesty was rewarded with another kiss, as his strong lips demanded hers to part for him. She gave in to him, allowing his tongue to explore the depths of her mouth, and gently brush against hers. Honey dripped from her folds and dampened her thighs. Large hands went to the bed linens, as they pulled them from her grasp, exposing her pert breasts and pink nipples. He caressed her softness and then caught a pebbled nipple between his fingers and gently twisted it. She inhaled deeply, and returned the kiss. She heard him groan in approval, right before a knock on his door interrupted him.

"Galen?" Melluna's voice sliced through their tender moment. "Galen, I wanted you to know that Isla and I are both saddled up, and we brought your mount around and saddled him up, too. We're anxious to get on the road since it's already noon." A whoosh of aggravated breath escaped the warrior.

"Alright, Mel, I'll be there soon." He answered, and heard the soft footsteps of his sister walking away from the door. Galen looked back into the deep green eyes of his blood elf, and gave her a knowing grin.

"I'll be back later tonight," he told her, before planting a kiss on her temple, and turned to the door. He froze in his tracks, and let out a foul curse of pain.

"What? What's wrong?" She asked, concerned. He didn't turn to face her, instead his hands went down his pants as he adjusted his breeches.

"I should have worn looser pants," he grumbled as he found a spot to settle in, and he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

.

Hello all! A year and a half is a long time to wait for an update! I apologize, I really do want to give this story a fair shot, and not rush to finish it just because I feel bad. Which I do, feel bad that I have waited this long for an update. I have a lot of real life drama going on, and I finally have some down time where writers block isn't plaguing me. I did not really proof read this chapter because when I wrote it, I was so happy I finally had an idea of where to go that I didn't want to sit on it and wait. If you catch any mistakes, please let me know! Also, I am open to suggestions of what you want to see in my novels. I won't always do it, but some of them are good suggestions. I had a reviewer who wanted to see more human males in my stories, and TADAH! We have Darrick. Who I really like. Good suggestion! Anyway, happy trails, hope all is well with you guys!

-Chaser