Chapter 20

The tender scene Amyr witnessed, disgusted him, not so much because he did not have the sensibility to feel, but because Taeron was experiencing something Amyr did not think he ever would. How was that any different from every aspect of his life? Taeron was respected by the imperial warriors. Taeron's parents loved him. Amyr's parents adored him. Taeron should have been his father's son instead of the bastard of his imperial guard.

He waited until the revolting female left before approaching Taeron. He had gone to the castle to find him, for what he did not know although he thought he should find out if he had hurt him badly. If he did, he might have to appoint one of the other men as his imperial guard and that was a situation he wanted to avoid because he did not trust any of them. On his way to the castle, he had seen Taeron exit rapidly, the Teralonian female chasing him, calling his brother's name, so he had followed and was shocked to come upon them to see the female drinking Taeron's blood with relish. Amyr had been horrified that his guard and adopted brother had not only allowed her, but had appeared to enjoy the experience. The Teralonian female had Taeron under her spell, and now Amyr worried that because she had taken his blood, she might have some power over him.

Amyr would not have given Sharisse a second look except that she had attracted Taeron's attention instead of the beautiful princess to whom he had given an oath to take as his wife. If Amyr had agreed to marry Princess Dijana, he would not have wasted any time mating the sensual female, so Taeron's interest – nay obsession – with her sister had made Amyr take a closer look. When she had burst in on his conversation with Stryfe, Amyr had seen a rather plain female, but when she exploded with fury and the color rose to her cheeks as she insulted him, he realized her potential beauty. She reminded him of the thistle flowers in Lady Trynity's garden, except that she had not yet bloomed. Her eyes were a lovely glittering green in a pale face that was finely boned with full lips that drew a male's attention. Amyr could not blame Taeron for touching his lips to hers, and yet seeing him do it bothered him.

Taking advantage of Stryfe's penchant for gossip, Amyr had learned that his father had demanded an oath so binding of Taeron that breaking it was tantamount to treason. Yet he was on the verge of breaking that oath by refusing the princess of Teralon because he had fallen in love with a woman that had been despoiled by a monster, who was bound to that monster until his death. Anger welled up inside Amyr that Taeron would risk his future if not his life for that despicable creature. If disaster befell Taeron because of his choice, who could Amyr trust enough to protect him?

When he stepped out from where he had been hiding, Taeron glanced at him without betraying any surprise. Of course the bastard knew he had there, probably knew exactly when he had come upon them trysting under the tree.

"You think you can make everything right for her?" Amyr demanded, irritated to see that no one had healed the scrapes and bruises he had given him. Amyr did not need to be reminded what kind of an ass he had been by raising his hand to his own imperial guard and by continuing to beat him when Taeron had obviously stopped fighting him. "You made a vow to her and you made a vow to my father. And what of your vow to me? How can you protect me when you have put yourself at her beck and call?"

Taeron's gaze did not waver. "I would walk through the hell of the gods for you, my prince, have already done so although you seem to think fighting blood-sucking Varoonyans and their thralls was easy. I did those things in your name, to avenge your death. If I had to choose between you and her, it would kill me to do so, but my vow to you remains until you release me from it and I would never ask you to do so."

His passionate answer mollified Amyr. This determined man was the Taeron he recognized. "You may not be able to keep your vow to her, Taeron. If you haven't found Kai by now..."

"I know where to look now," Taeron interrupted him, his chin set stubbornly. "I am sure that Staefyn has offered him protection on Calabria."

There was nothing Amyr could say that would dissuade Taeron from his prejudice against Staefyn, but Amyr could not believe Staefyn capable of masterminding a plot that ended with his own enslavement and Taeron trapped beyond the frontier. As for insurrection against his father, Amyr thought it preposterous when Staefyn had always been their father's cherished son. Whatever had come between Staefyn and Taeron so many years ago was clouding his judgment now.

Dismissing the ridiculous charge, he said, "I heard what she said..."

"Of course you did. I knew you were skulking around like a hill weasel."

Amyr grit his teeth, furious that Taeron would compare him to the wretched rodent that was a pestilence in the Guerani hills. "Should I teach you another lesson?"

Taeron snorted. "There is no audience this time."

The last time there had been no audience on the shuttle flight from Ulfynaeus to the surface after Quynn had abandoned him was still a painful memory. Taeron had not held back that day and Amyr had received the first, but certainly not the last, beating of his life. "That would defeat whatever purpose you had in allowing me to pummel you before the men."

Taeron shrugged. "It would be easy enough to find the healer to erase the physical evidence." He did not have to say that the memory of this beating would probably supplant the other.

Clenching his fists at his sides, Amyr wished he had taken his lessons more seriously so that he could challenge him with a sword. When they were younger, he had not cared why Taeron had worked so hard to become the fighter that stood before him now, a fighter that evoked fear from enemies and admiration from others. Amyr had never had a need to earn anyone's approval, so he had mocked Taeron's efforts which seemed to make him work even harder. The result stood before him now, the most feared of Calabria's warlords.

"Do you think I appreciate what you did, allowing yourself to be beaten?" Raising his hand to him had been a mistake in front of the handful of imperial warriors, warriors that would probably never trust him. "The men respect me even less for taking my fists to the hero of Varoonya."

"I misjudged."

Taeron made a mistake?

"Hey! Here you guys are." The fool scribe had come upon them before Amyr could react to Taeron's admission. "Quynn sent me looking for ..." he looked around carefully, doubtlessly searching for the Teralonian female, before he finished. "Taeron."

Amyr snorted derisively. "You should tell those females who you are and claim your mate instead of lying and dallying behind her back with her ugly sister." He was amused to see the anger in the stiffening of Taeron's body.

Sensing imminent violence, Stryfe stepped between them. "This fighting has got to stop! The men are grumbling about how you treated my brother, and while I don't care what they say about you, I don't want you dragging my brother down with you, princeling. Those kinds of fights are pretty common on Earth, but I have discovered that they are rare on Calabria."

"A man of honor uses only his sword," Amyr told him to which Taeron nodded.

"There you have it. Two guys without much honor beating on each other." Stryfe chuckled at the look Amyr must be giving him if it matched Taeron's. "I had an idea when we were talking earlier about my sword skills. You are right, Taeron, that they have suffered from disuse. Maybe since we have so much time waiting for the ship to be repaired, you can help me."

"I would appreciate the chance to practice." Nothing pleased Taeron more than swinging his sword, so his answer was not surprising even though Amyr thought his time would be wasted on the pitiful scribe.

But that reminded him of his own performance against Taeron in the arena, and Amyr was galled to have to turn to Taeron for help. "I would ask for the same favor."

Taeron turned his head to look at him. "Is this some sort of ploy on your part?"

"What kind of ploy?" he asked with annoyance. "Do you think I plan to stab you when you are not looking? How could it even happen when you see and know everything before it even happens? That should be obvious after how you defeated me in the arena."

"He is right," said Stryfe with a snort. "Your performance was quite miserable before my brother finally put you out of your shameful misery. I am only surprised you weren't killed long before Taeron humiliated you."

Amyr glared at Stryfe. Wasn't it enough that he took Taeron's affections from him after all the years they had spent together? Wasn't it enough that the female with whom he had shared his mother's womb rejected him when he desperately needed her? Did he have to insult him so frequently?

"What have you written of the incident?" he demanded with annoyance.

"Enough to put you to shame, but then I'm not really sure how much that is since you are shameless."

"If you were not my mate's brother..."

"I am not your mate!"

Amyr spun to see that Quynn had approached with the healer, Carrinda. She was glaring at him with her hands on her hips and he went weak in the knees at the sight of her even though the look she wore on her face warned him that she would enjoy throwing more footwear at him. As usual, when she was near, he could not think rationally and his mouth did not care about any common sense he might possess.

"You can deny all you wish, but you are my mate." He ignored the rolling of her brother's eyes. Amyr did not care about the scribe's opinion.

A hand on his arm drew his attention and he found Taeron looking at him intently. He expected some dire warning about his behavior towards his human sister, but he said instead, "If you are earnest in your desire to learn from me, then I would be honored to teach you. The men have requested training practice, so tomorrow I am working with them." Amyr was surprised by the intensity of his gaze. Did Taeron truly wish to help him? His imperial guard's altruism bothered Amyr more than his scorn because it made him feel smaller in his own eyes.

"Will the thrall join you?" Amyr wanted to lash out at Taeron for the feeling of self-loathing that had settled in his heart. Gods damn Taeron! Amyr did not like this feeling at all!

"I will find some way to keep her attention diverted," volunteered Quynn, speaking to Taeron as she avoided even a stray glance in Amyr's direction. "You won't have to worry that she will attempt to … train you again."

He gave his sister a grateful smile and nod before turning back to Amyr. "We will spend the early part of the evening in training because the daylight hours are needed for repairs on the ship."

"Mordrad has a training yard on the far side of the castle where you can have some privacy," Quynn told them. "He would also like to see your training because he was very impressed by your performance in the arena."

"You mean the one where he made Prince Amyr look like a poorly trained monkey fighting with a stick?" asked Stryfe with a chuckle.

Amyr frowned. "I do not know what a monkey is, but I do not fight with a stick." He caught the smile that passed between the siblings and he grew rigid with anger to be mocked before his mate. "Scribe, do you not have anything useful to do? I cannot imagine that you have recorded the entirety of this adventure since you have been masquerading as your brother. Have you included that detail in the official account to the emperor?"

To his annoyance Stryfe smirked. "Every detail, princeling. But you have reminded me of some work I need to complete. I look forward to crossing swords with you on the practice field."

"That oaf thinks he can best me?" asked Amyr when Stryfe had sauntered away whistling to himself.

"I am quite sure that he can," Taeron said.

Amyr did not want to think about the potential shame of losing a match against the scribe.

"I have come to heal Lord Taeron," spoke up Carrinda although the lovely healer was clearly amused by the exchange that she had silently observed. "Perhaps this discussion should stop before I am forced to heal Prince Amyr yet again today."

"I agree," said Quynn. "He is close to having parts of him that he uses all too often injured grievously."

Amyr understood that reference. "Those parts do not function, so I doubt I will be feeling much pain." Unfortunately, those parts were functioning now as he drank in the sight of his mate. She had been slender before her flight from Calabria, but now she was curvaceous and womanly, and his fantasies about how she would feel in his hands made his mouth water. "Woman,"he growled, knowing that he was going to say something stupid yet unable to stop himself. "I need you."

"Is that meant to seduce me?" Quynn snorted with unwomanly laughter that reminded Amyr of her father. He wanted her even more despite her mockery.

"I burn for you." He didn't care who heard his pathetic attempt at courtship. He had courted her on Calabria several years ago. He should not have to do it now, but he was desperate to touch her, to hold her, to take her as a man takes a woman to whom he has given his life.

Why was she so damn obstinate? Surely it was her mother! Lady Trynity had not submitted easily to become Lord Duo's mate. Amyr had heard his father complain that Lord Duo deserved a more biddable mate although Amyr had noted that his father's imperial guard seemed more relaxed since taking the human female into his house. Amyr had never known him to be so happy, so he must attribute it to Lady Trynity. Quynn was making this more difficult than it needed to be! Did she not realize how much pleasure he would give her? How could she continue to refuse him?

Taeron rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly closed. "My prince, please stop talking." Carrinda finished her spell to heal him so the scrapes were gone and the bruises had faded. The healer was looking between Amyr and Quynn with silent laughter in her eyes. He would be angry if he were not so engulfed in need for his mate. Satisfying that need had taken precedence over dignity.

Quynn took a step closer to him and Amyr was overpowered by her womanly scent, and when she beckoned him with both hands, he nearly groaned aloud believing that she was relenting.

But she was mocking him. "Go on, princeling,"she goaded, borrowing her brother's derogatory term for him. "I want to hear more. You had so much to say on Calabria when you wanted to trick me into giving you my vow. You were almost poetic. What happened to your eloquent flattery?"

"I am not courting you!" he said with frustration. He was aching with her standing so close.

"You mean you are not lying to me now, but you were then!"

He was painfully aware that Carrinda and Taeron were watching, the former with amusement and the latter with annoyance. "Can we have this conversation in private?"

"No!" blurted Taeron, stepping forward. "I forbid it!"

Did Taeron think he would overpower his sister and force her to submit? The mere thought was as repugnant to him as taking another female in her place. His bond to her subjugated him to her will. Amyr hated it, and yet he wanted it if only she would acknowledge his need of her.

Now Quynn turned on Taeron. "You forbid it? Since when do I have to listen to you?"

"You did not listen to me when I gave you advice five years ago. Perhaps you should start." Taeron was glaring at her and she was returning the glare.

Holding his breath, Amyr waited for her predictable rebellion. He was not disappointed. "I can take care of myself, brother. Why don't you go find Stryfe so the two of you can figure out how to get yourself out of this mess with the bird women of Teralon." She spun to look at Amyr. "Come with me. We will discuss this in private."

Amyr was so happy that Taeron had overreached that he wanted to hug him. Instead he forced himself not to gloat as he fell into step behind Quynn. Her backside was so lovely, her hips keeping his attention riveted to her gait. He tried not to imagine what it would be like to lie with her, but he could not help but think of the dream, the one that she claimed was a trance that he had initiated. If he could do it, he would have done it many times by now.

"I can hear you panting," she remarked over her shoulder. "You are getting the wrong idea. I have no intention of burning the sheets with you any time soon."

Burning the sheets. Her human expressions often confused him, but that one he certainly understood. When they mated the sheets would indeed burn.

"According to Taeron, I don't have to worry about you ever cheating on me again," she commented.

"I cannot."

She made another obvious sound of disgust. "We both know that if you could, you would do it in a heartbeat."

Amyr caught up to her and seized her arm to pull her around to face him. He should not have because she came up against him and he became disoriented because the blood rushed through him straight to that part of him that was already painful. "I ... I ..." his tongue suddenly felt too thick in his mouth.

Her deep violet gaze was on his face, her expression lacking any compassion. "Can't speak, princeling?"

He wanted to tell her that he would have changed for her, but he knew that he would have had no choice. Once they had gone through the bonding ceremony, his body would have belonged to her regardless of what he wanted. How could she have expected to give up all those sweet morsels that had yet to be tasted? He had just one more night, one more chance to sample them.

As if she could read his thoughts, she yanked her arm from his hand and strode away.

Amyr could do nothing but watch speechlessly. The pain was unbearable and he was sure now that Quynn would never forgive him. Falling to his knees, he covered his face with his hands, wanting to weep for what he had lost, what he would never have. Quynn. She despised him and had every reason to do so. He had used her to get both his father's and Lord Duo's approval. That she was beautiful and fiery and bold had been a bonus. But he lost her even before he had her. He thought of that day, when he gave her the rose and she had melted in his arms. If Taeron had not stopped him that day, he would have dishonored her there in the hall, against the wall as if she were a common whore. Taeron should have given him a beating then.

"You are in pain."

"You cannot help me," he responded to the healer who was standing over him.

She put her hands on his shoulders. "Quynn has told me about your dilemma."

"And you must find it amusing," he growled. He wished she would not touch him because her nearness was repulsive enough. His stomach was twisting and he was going to vomit soon if she did not move away. By the gods! He should not have this reaction to such a beautiful female!

"I am a healer. I do not find any pain amusing and certainly not the kind of pain from which you suffer." Carrinda massaged his shoulders and he felt warmth from her hands, spreading with the intensity of a low flame throughout his body. This was how he felt when she brought him back to life and healed his wounds.

He wanted to jerk away from her because he realized she was changing him now, not healing him but dissolving what tied him to Quynn, but the euphoria from her touch was spreading throughout him was too good to resist and he heard himself whimper.

"I am sorry if you did not want your bond to be broken,"she said softly, her warm breath caressing his neck. For the first time since the day he made his oath to Quynn, he felt pleasure, but instead of being relieved, sadness settled in his heart. "You are free of her and she is free of you."

With those words, Carrinda released him and walked away.

Amyr became aware of wetness on his cheeks and as he rubbed his face of the tears he had shed, he realized that one pain had disappeared and he was free to glut his need on any female that crossed his path. But the physical pain had been replaced by the one in his chest in knowing that the one woman that could ease that pain would probably never give him a chance to earn her forgiveness.