Two Knights of Passion

Bewitching Desires 2 

Two Knights of Passion Witch Lujza Macska seizes the perfect opportunity to escape her familial obligation of finding a mate when her spellbook is accidently magicked into a fourteenth-century tapestry. Having honed her fencing skills sparring with an enchanted scarecrow, she is prepared to take on ruthless robbers seeking to steal a dragon's treasure and the pair of sexy knights who want to protect her from the harmless beast. Amalric Ballard and Ranulf Ward, the bravest knights of their lordship's realm, are certain the stranger determined to find the dragon isn't a boy, but a woman skilled in witchcraft—and she's casting her spell on them. Hitching a ride with her to the twentyfirst century is a lesson in modern English and indoor plumbing, as well as the strength of passion and love. Can they convince her to take them as her mates instead of sending them back into the past where they belong? Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal Length: 31,638 words

 

TWO KNIGHTS OF PASSION Bewitching Desires 2

Mellanie Szereto

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

TWO KNIGHTS OF PASSION Copyright © 2011 by Mellanie Szereto E-book ISBN: 1-61034-793-5 First E-book Publication: September 2011 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Two Knights of Passion by Mellanie Szereto from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Mellanie Szereto’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Szereto’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

 

DEDICATION Many thanks to Nathaniel for his awesome ideas about knights and dragons. You have a terrific imagination!

 

TWO KNIGHTS OF PASSION Bewitching Desires 2 MELLANIE SZERETO Copyright © 2011

Chapter 1 Lujza Macska hugged the wall as she crept along the third floor hallway of the mansion’s east wing, aiming for her apartment and escape. Goddess, save me from my family. Please! If one more person wished her a happy birthday, she might have to strangle her. Fleeing to the stable for an hour of sparring with an enchanted scarecrow beat the knowing smirks and expectant, raised eyebrows of her mother, sisters, and cousins. She’d avoided her aunts and grandmothers easily enough that morning, but any minute now they’d converge to bestow the blessing on her. Screw that! I don’t need to be blessed. She had no intention of mating to produce a female heir to the Macska line of witches. Having a daughter didn’t bother her. No, the mating was the problem. She’d tried it once, and never again would she allow a man to turn her into a blithering idiot. Slipping into her sitting room, she closed the door to the suite behind her and hurried to the balcony. A quick scan of the leaf-strewn lawn assured her that the coast was clear. Only Kata, with her evergrowing belly, would venture out to the herb gardens or the greenhouse on this blustery late-October afternoon. Blah! October. A witch born on All Hallows Eve—how cliché.

 

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Tugging on leggings under her ankle-length skirt and a bulky sweater over her tank top, Lujza eyed her boots. She rode bareback and barefoot. Why should her feet suffer for a bit of swordplay and self-defense practice? With a last look at the east gardens, she exited through the balcony doors, straddling the railing to climb down the thick ivy vines to the cool, damp grass three stories below. A long sprint carried her past the hedges, around the paddock, and to the side entrance of the barn. Inside, she walked along the center aisle, stopping at half a dozen stalls for a quick hello to each of the mares. The earthy scent of hay tickled her nose as she skittered up the ladder to the loft, feeling more at home in the drafty stable than she did in the mansion’s stuffy parlors. Her mother often chided Lujza for behaving like she’d been raised in a barn. Given a choice, Lu would probably live with the horses. They wouldn’t pressure me to do my duty. Lifting her skirt to keep from tripping on it, she stair-stepped her way up the stacked bales of hay and down the other side to the space she’d cleared for a private exercise room. She wiggled her skirt past her hips, tossing it in a pile on the floor. Her sweater followed. After several minutes of crunches, push-ups, and lunges, she stretched her warm muscles and retrieved her swords from their hiding spot beneath a pair of loose floorboards. Unrolling the burlap that protected the finishes on her weapons, she wrapped her palm around the grip of her fencing foil. With the spare button-tipped foil in her other hand, the incantation to bring her sparring partner in the far corner to life spilled from her lips. “With skill and knowledge come to fight, Man of straw, with power and might. Foil in hand and honor bound, Sparring ends when the heart is found. Inflict no harm upon thy foe;

 

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When Time is called your life shall go.” The scarecrow rose to his moccasin-clad feet, his arm reaching for a sword. She flipped the foil to extend it to his gloved hand by the blade. He strode to the end of the rectangle drawn on the floor, waiting for her to do the same. Then he returned her salute, their blades whistling on the rapid sweep toward the floor. “En garde!” Lu assumed the proper stance. “Ready? Fence!” The scarecrow advanced quickly, coming straight at her in an outright attack. She easily parried with a rapid septime to quarte movement and a side step past her opponent. They rounded, the tip lunging forward as she deflected the second attack. She held back, practicing her defensive moves one after another until her pulse steadily beat in her chest and sweat rolled from her hairline into her eyes. Then she pulled out the stops. Parry and riposte, thrusting, and driving her foe back and onto the defensive. He tried for a lunge, but she ducked away and thrust her tip at the unprotected red heart she’d drawn on his chest. “Lujza! Lujza, are you here?” The panic in her novice’s voice jerked Lu’s attention from her target for a split second, allowing her opponent to recover and beat the foil from her grip. A moment later, his blunt tip pressed against the tattoo above her left breast, effectively ending the bout. The scarecrow crumpled in a heap at her feet, his weapon clinking on the floor. “Damn it! Beaten by a fucking straw man.” Tossing her blade onto the nearest bale, she wiped the moisture from her brow with her forearm and considered shoving the top of the stacked hay over the edge of the loft as punishment for her cousin interrupting her workout. Guilt swarmed her conscience. Okay, so I’m more pissed at myself for allowing the distraction than Ilona for causing it. “I’m up in the loft, Ilona. I’ll be right there.” Gathering her swords, she carefully rewrapped them and returned

 

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them to their hiding place. She set the scarecrow back in the corner then grabbed her skirt and sweater. A quick scramble up and over the hay, followed by a descent to the dirt floor of the barn, brought her face-to-face with her student. The poor girl deserved a teacher with more patience. Her damp skin suddenly chilling in the cool air, Lu tugged on her clothes. “What’s the problem, cousin?” The sixteen-year-old girl chewed on her upper lip and kicked at a piece of straw. “Um, I kind of...had an...accident. I wanted to surprise you with a...new spell I’ve been practicing, but it, well, didn’t work quite the way I’d hoped. And I...need your help fixing it.” Lu closed her eyes to keep from rolling them. She exhaled and opened them again. “What happened, cousin?” “Remember the spellbook I was reading yesterday?” The girl fiddled with her long braid. “Yeeahhh.” No mermaids, please, no mermaids. “Well, you know how it’s really old, and the cover is falling apart?” Shit, Kata’s going to kill me if Ilona destroyed a six-hundredyear-old book. “I, um, tried to make it new again, but it sort of got sucked into the tapestry hanging on the study wall.” The fourteenth-century tapestry. “It’s new again all right.” **** “That’s an authentic, medieval double-edged sword, isn’t it?” Adjusting the rope belt at her waist, Lujza ignored Aaron’s question. Her cousin, Kata’s mate—one of Kata’s mates—showed way too much interest in her preparations to retrieve the spellbook. His brother, Adam—Kata’s other mate—didn’t say a word. The smirk on his face spoke for him. Lu had tolerated his smartass comments to her for the past six months only because she appreciated having

 

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someone else in the mansion with as much bluntness as she had. Not that she’d ever tell him that. Threatening to turn him into a toad was much more fun. Her feet already ached from the leather lace-up boots she wore with her leggings, but at least the tunic beat wearing a dress. She’d convinced Great Grandmother Romána that dressing as a man was safer, in case she happened to meet up with any of the knights in the tapestry. The clothes were as close to authentic as the real thing since the fabric had been woven by one of her great aunts. The chain mail between her linen shirt and wool tunic had come by overnight delivery. The clock on the mantel bonged once, twice, on its way to twelve. Noon. “I’m ready.” She ran a hand through her short, spiky hair then hefted the sword, sliding it into the sheath strapped to her back. Even at five-ten, the weapon made her feel small. Romána handed her a cloth sack. “Enough food for two days if you ration it carefully. Be safe, daughter, and fulfill your destiny.” Biting the inside of her cheek, Lu nodded, not trusting her voice. They’d discussed the dangers of going into the tapestry, and an emergency plan had been set. Time to go. After a slow, deep breath, she lit the red candle set in dragon’s- blood resin and began reciting the incantation that would send her into the scene from the past. “Spell, take me to these knights of old, Hidden away from their sight behold. Protect the book that I must find, While medieval times unwind. I’ll put to right mistakes unplanned, Amendments to the past shall stand. Do what you will and blessed be. With harm to none, so mote it be.”

 

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Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aaron and Adam rush out of the study. She couldn’t really blame them after their own experience with a spell gone awry. The words echoed in her ears as she repeated them twice, her gaze fixed on the tapestry. Her vision dotted with swirling lights, but she kept her focus, some invisible force pushing and pulling her body. Wind whipped at her clothing, whistling and howling. The last bong of the clock. And then silence. Darkness. The smell of rain, rotting leaves, and...death.

 

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Chapter 2 Huddled in the deep crevice in the rocks, Lu silently exhaled. Footsteps clumped through the muck less than ten feet from her hiding place. Two sets of muddy boots passed in front of the narrow opening, dragging a third, none slowing as they disappeared from her line of sight. Adrenaline surged through her. Any other woman in her family would be asking what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Lu wasn’t like the rest. She thrived on danger, excitement, and physical challenges. She’d willingly put her life at risk hundreds of years in the past to protect and preserve the Macska heritage and their secret—their lives as witches. But Lu wouldn’t be adding another generation, making her death unimportant in the grand scheme. If she didn’t survive this adventure, the loss would make little difference to her family’s future. Only retrieving the spellbook mattered. “Loathsome whoresons.” A thick Anglo-Norman accent blended with the insult, sending a shiver up Lu’s spine. If the man matched the voice, he was easily seven feet tall and broad as a barn. Best to avoid that one. “Every robber in the land be trained on the devil’s treasure. We must needs find its weakness afore an invasion.” “What weakness dost thou think shall be uncovered on a serpent with flaming breath?” The second voice sounded much like the first, loud and booming, just outside the seam in the rocks. “A blade hath yet to pierce its scaly hide.” A fire-breathing serpent? Their conversation continued with thees and thous, strewn with unfamiliar words. I need a damn Middle English dictionary to understand half of

 

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what they’re saying. Whoresons, dullards, giglets? Screw this. Lu whispered the simple chant she’d created as a young woman to listen in on her older sister, Rebeka’s, French conversations with her mate. “Translate the words within my mind, so understanding I will find.” “Near two seasons hath passed since I last swived a lustsome whore.” The irritation in giant number one’s voice dubbed his statement a complaint a second before its meaning took root in her brain. Almost six months have passed since I last fucked a horny, young slut. Big surprise there. Men who used women for sex. Over six hundred years had done absolutely nothing to evolve the male attitude about getting laid. Anger spread through her veins, the heat of her temper setting fire to her emotions. She forced her hand to halt midway to her sword. Now wasn’t the time to fight that battle. She needed to find the spellbook and go home. Boots clumped through the mud again, fading this time, along with their voices. She counted to five hundred before edging toward the opening. Peeking out of her hiding place, she studied her surroundings. Slightly rocky terrain faced a gradual slope to a thick forest and a distant clearing. Movement among the trees drew her gaze. The men. Their tan and brown clothing blended well with the trunks and brown leaves, but not so thoroughly that she didn’t notice the swagger in their strides. Typical males. She watched until they disappeared, hoping they couldn’t see her if she couldn’t see them. Easing out of the crevice, she crept along the rocks, staying low as she avoided the muddy path. She didn’t need anyone finding an extra set of boot tracks and following her. Ancient tome, I search for you. Answer me as the ravens do. A quick mental scan of the area between the boulders and the trees yielded nothing. The book should have responded to a simple location spell. Moving down the gently sloping hill, she sent out another telepathic call. A faint cawing had her freezing mid-step. Then silence.

 

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She took several more hurried steps down the hill, repeating the summons as she ducked behind a tree trunk at the edge of the woods. “Caaaw, caaaw!” The low, hoarse cry came from deeper in the forest. Panic gripped Lu’s heart for a long second. The men she’d heard outside the narrow slit in the rocks couldn’t have found it. Could they? **** Amalric Ballard jerked his gaze from the stone he was using to sharpen his sword to the branches above his head. No raven perched on the skeletal limbs. He glanced toward Ranulf Ward, the only remaining knight sent with him yesterday to destroy the abomination wreaking havoc on the farmers throughout the local countryside. They and three others from their lord’s castle had finally discovered its lair this morn just as a trio of thieves had come upon them. Urwyn, Baldor, and Thomas had arrows in their backs before the robbers had made a noise, alerting any of the knights to their presence. Then the fire-breathing serpent had set the ambushers aflame at the sound of weapons clanging together. Amalric and Ranulf had barely escaped with their lives. Ranulf raised his hand for silence as he pointed to the bound parchment pages on the ground near his feet. He couldn’t possibly mean that the book had made the eerie cawing call of a raven, could he? Amalric stared at the green leather volume, daring it to talk like a bird. “Caaaw, caaaw!” A shiver raced up his backbone, making all the hairs on his neck stand on end. Something evil was afoot. Soundlessly setting aside the stone, he raised the two-handed blade to the ready. Someone was watching them as surely as he stood

 

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crouched and ready to fight to the death. The wet leaves on the forest floor would silence any noise the spy made creeping between the trees. Snap! He turned toward the breaking of a twig, his eyes searching the woods for the intruder. A muffled roar came somewhere beyond the trees. The serpent. “Hie!” Ranulf’s yell spurred Amalric into motion. He grabbed the book as he sprinted over the slick surface of rotting leaves beneath his boots. He headed deeper into the forest, no longer concerned with the spy or the raven. His only goal was to avoid becoming the next charred meal of the scaled beast. Wind battered the treetops as he circled back to find Ranulf. Nay, not wind. The flapping of wings. Another bellowed roar sounded above Amalric, and he forced his legs to carry him faster, dodging low branches and saplings. Nearing the lea to the south of the woods, he caught a glimpse of the great blood-red demon. Its scales shimmered even in the gray of the rainclouds. Huge wings beat a steady rhythm to keep the long, bulky body aloft. Eyes glowed yellow like those of Satan himself. “Amalric! This way!” Ranulf’s shout had Amalric glancing over his shoulder as he ran. His brother-in-arms waved his sword from several long strides to the west. A quick switchback would send him skidding across the wet leaves out into the open grassy area and make him a sure target for the fiery, winged creature. His feet carried him in a wide arc back toward his fellow knight. Rounding away from the lea, he chanced another look over his shoulder. Although he didn’t see the beast, wings still beat noisily above the trees. His boot caught on fallen branch, sending him lurching forward. The book flew out of his grasp to sail out into the grassy meadow. Focusing on his own well-being, he held his weapon far to the side and rolled. He came up on his feet a moment later, sword ready.

 

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A blur of brown rushed past him, aiming for the lea. At the edge of the forest, it suddenly halted. “Sharkan?” The softly spoken word sounded foreign. Germanic, mayhap? Amalric waited for the lad to slide the blade on his back from its sheath, but he just stood staring up into the overcast sky as if mesmerized by the flying demon. Rooaarrr! The devil swooped down to the ground, snagging the book with its talons before winging away toward its lair. “Sharkan!” The boy lunged past the branches into the matted grass, running in the direction of the giant red thief. Amalric gave chase, his longer strides covering more ground than the lad’s shorter, leaner legs. A full head taller, Amalric quickly overtook him. Wrapping an arm around his narrow waist, he started to lift the boy. “Let me go!” A boot heel hammered into Amalric’s shin, almost making him release his captive. Sharp pain shot through his bones, but he ignored it as an elbow rammed his gut. The unexpected impact knocked the breath out of him. Twisting in his grasp, the lad ducked through his loosened hold and leveled a fist into his chest. Then he looped a leg behind Amalric’s knees and shoved him backward. Only years of training kept Amalric from landing on his arse. A smooth, almost feminine face stared at him from a fighting stance. A boy of no more than fourteen summers. Short brown hair stood on end. No beard or hint of stubble. Only dirt darkened his pale skin. His voice wasn’t even low enough yet to be a man—but he fought like a tested soldier. Ranulf appeared behind the lad, his stealth moving him within an arm’s length. He raised his foot to step closer. Their foe whirled again, one leg whipping high in the air to strike Ranulf in the chin. Caught off guard, Ranulf’s head snapped back as he fell to the ground. The sword whistled free of its sheath as the lad turned to eye both

 

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of his enemies. His chest rose and fell with each rapid breath. “You will not try to stop me, nor will you follow me. Understood?” What language did he speak? Some of the words were familiar, yet others seemed odd. Amalric had no intention of allowing him to follow the beast. So scant a meal will only serve to whet the great gleaming devil’s taste for more. “Nay, lad. We wilt not allow thee to fight the...sharkan. ’Tis not a battle thou can win.” Ranulf studied the stranger as Amalric attempted to talk some sense into him. A stubborn jaw tightened. Fingers adjusted their grip on the weapon. Booted feet readied to run. God’s teeth, lad. Ranulf pushed up from the ground, not willing to let a boy best him. His jaw would likely ache for a day or more. He opened and closed his mouth thrice to ease the stiffness as he wielded his own sword. Then came a telling shift to the left. Not waiting for the charge, Ranulf engaged his opponent with a swift two-handed upswing. Somehow, the boy managed to hold onto his weapon, swinging it round in an arc when it should’ve taken flight. “Ha!” An arrogant smile challenged Ranulf to try again. Did the lad believe the play entertaining? Amalric advanced on the youth, an angry scowl showing his displeasure. “This be another battle thou cannot win.” “Battle? More like a pair of overgrown bullies picking on someone much smaller.” The boy’s blade whipped through the air, striking Amalric’s sword. A loud clang sang out, and Ranulf’s friend couldn’t maintain his grip. The weapon flew tip first into the soft earth a full three strides away. “That is how it’s done.” **** The surprise on the dark-haired knight’s face sent a surge of pride through Lujza’s veins, and she couldn’t hold in a laugh. The man with

 

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light brown hair raised his eyebrows at her, and his mouth twitched as if he was trying not to laugh with her. Goddess, she’d never enjoyed sparring with her straw man as much as these two warriors. So far, she’d held her own. Now, she needed to lose these guys and go after the dragon. Sárkány—or sharkan, as the one named Amalric had called her. A poor attempt at the proper pronunciation. Lu hadn’t seen the beautiful creature since it had vanished from her favorite storybook when she was eight years old. She hadn’t known where her friend had gone or how to bring her back. I spelled you here, sárkány. I’m so sorry. Lu could finally send her back into the book where she belonged. Why hadn’t the red dragon been in the picture on the tapestry? Taking a couple steps back from the knights, she debated trying to outrun them. She might be able to if she wasn’t wearing thirty-five pounds of chainmail and carrying a sword that weighed almost ten. Clearly, she couldn’t reason with them. Oh, what the hell. It’s worth a shot. “Look, I have no quarrel with you guys, and I don’t need protection from the dragon.” The amused knight no longer looked...amused. More like confused. “What lands didst thou travel from that thou speakest that way?” “Oops.” The translation spell had worked only for her ears, and the incantation must have broken during the struggle. Telling them her ancestors came from a land of gypsies probably wouldn’t go over well. “I come from a distant land. It’s called Ohio.” “What is dragon?” Amalric’s gruff tone made her want to ignore his question, but by keeping them distracted, she’d managed a few more steps away from the bullies. “Oh-i-o? I know not that name. Whither is this land?” The less brusque man seemed genuinely curious about her home. “My country lies far to the west, beyond the sea.” She took another small step. “Dragon is another name for sárkány. Sharkan.” Softening the “n” and adding a slightly nasal “eh” to the sound, she

 

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turned her attention back to Amalric. He stood less than one of his strides from her and wore a smug grin. “Dost thou thinkest to trick us, lad?” Thank the Goddess! Considering the complaint about his lack of sex, she was lucky he hadn’t discovered her secret. More than likely, she would’ve been raped. “No. I only wish to be on my way. I have...business to attend to.” “Nay, thou wilt not be attending to the sharkan. Ranulf and I doth share that chore. We have need of a squire.” He grabbed for her arm, but she sidestepped his reach. “A servant, you mean. No, thanks.” She lifted her chin, refusing to let the oaf intimidate her. Aiming her sword at the large bulge just below the hem of his tunic, she narrowed her eyes. “And if you touch me, this blade cuts off something vital.”

 

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Chapter 3 Sharing a look with Ranulf, Amalric knew his friend had the same suspicions he did. Men didn’t threaten to castrate other men. Only a woman would dare to give that warning. A man’s cock was as important as his castle, and barring the rape of wife, mother, sister, or daughter, he would never consider such a scurrilous deed. Backing out of harm’s way, Amalric nodded. “If thou followest, we hath no reason to touch thee.” The lad’s—no, lass’s—back stiffened. “I told you, I won’t go with you.” Stubborn wench. He had even more reason not to allow this skilled fighter to go off on a deadly quest. A lass facing the firebreathing demon? No knight with any sense of honor would allow such folly. He was a protector of the weak, defender of the innocent, guardian of his lordship’s realm. She wasn’t weak, and hardly seemed innocent, but she was within the boundaries of his lordship’s lands. “Thou hath given us no choice.” Ranulf reached around her from behind, grabbed her wrists, and forced her to drop her sword. Amalric braved her kicking legs and twisting body to trap her ankles in his grip. “You fools, you don’t know what you’re doing! Let me go!” The lower voice she’d used gave way to a shrill screeching. Any lingering doubt about her feminine nature quickly faded. She might be taller than the average woman, and stronger by half, but she reacted in wholly female manner. Her clothing hid whatever soft curves she had. The banshee screaming and wild animal struggling were all woman. No lad would behave like a shrew.

 

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“You just wait! I’m going to slit your throats while you sleep for this! Idiots!” Ranulf set to tying her wrists together with a goodly length of twine before moving to her ankles. Amalric was of a mind to bind her mouth to halt the insults and yelling. He knew not whither Oh-i-o was, but ’twas an uncivilized land, to be certain. Tearing a strip of cloth from his linen shirt, he knotted it and stuffed it in her mouth, careful to avoid her gnashing teeth. The wailing became growling. Wild eyes seemed to search for some escape as he bent to lift her to his shoulder. Then she rolled. Ranulf quickly stepped into her path, putting an end to her progress. “Thou art quick-witted, lad.” The slight emphasis on the last word told Amalric that Ranulf wished to continue their captive’s deception. Perhaps she had fled her home for a fitting reason. Had her father or husband been murdered by robbers? A woman strong as this one would have been more trouble than value to a raiding neighbor. Am gone to slit yer throats while ye sleep for this! Her threat was not to be taken lightly. Amalric suspected she’d follow through if they slept with both eyes closed. She rolled away from his friend’s feet, grunting and snarling. He had to admire her refusal to surrender. Most soldiers would’ve laid down their weapons and faced their lot. Standing in her path, Amalric waited for her to come to rest on his feet. She bounced off his ankles, sending her half a roll backward. “Pwah!” The knot of linen shot from her mouth to land at his heel. “You son of a mangy dog!” He shook his head. “Hath thou no manners?” Her eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth. “Sharkan!” Flinching at the sudden ear-stabbing scream, he searched the sky for the flying beast. A low thumping sounded in the distance. Did the creature do her bidding? He scooped up his prisoner, folding her over his shoulder and grasping her bound legs. “The sword, Ranulf!” Amalric hurried toward the forest, not looking to see if his friend

 

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followed and paying no heed to the fists pounding his back. His captive’s yells changed to groans as he rushed past the first trees. He didn’t slow until he reached the small camp he and his fellow knights had made the prior evening. He listened for wing beats as he swung the lass to the ground and covered her mouth with his hand. Her chest rose and fell with every harsh breath, and she cradled her waist with her bound arms. Beneath his palm, pained moans blew warm air against his skin. His low hiss drew Ranulf’s attention. “A strip of cloth.” Ranulf nodded. He tore a piece of linen from his shirt, and working together, they forced the cloth between her lips and tied it at the back of her head. Attracting the sharkan’s attention would be a deadly risk they could not take, even for the comfort of a woman. Lujza fought the nausea rising in her throat. The gag made swallowing almost impossible, and her insides were more than a little jumbled from the sack-of-potatoes ride during Amalric’s gutwrenching jog into the woods. Closing her eyes improved her equilibrium, but did nothing for the ache in her side. The book. I have to get the spellbook. After she sent the dragon home. First, she had to escape from a giant pair of pains in her ass. They wouldn’t make it easy. Two thugs—twice her size and way too hard to fool. After several minutes of silence, she opened her eyes. A man crouched on either side of her as if waiting for her to jump and run. If they hadn’t tied her ankles, she’d have taken advantage of that option. The dark-haired Amalric scowled at her. “Didst thou calleth the sharkan?” She wanted to laugh in his face and nod. Instead, she turned to Ranulf. He pursed his lips then blew out a slow exhale. “What person hath sent thou hither?” That makes sense—ask me questions while I’m gagged. Why does every incantation have to end with “do no harm”? She looked away,

 

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closing her eyes again. Her temper might’ve gotten the best of her when she’d threatened to kill them in their sleep, but her pride insisted she find some way to escape. For now, she would focus her energy on formulating a plan and resting her tired body. **** Tightening the knot in the leather strap, Ranulf glanced toward the small cook fire and the scant meal Amalric prepared. Two fat rabbits on a stick. Not nearly enough to fill a pair of hungry men. He turned back to their prisoner. And a woman unlike any I hath e’er known. In sleep, her face had softened to reveal a feminine side he hadn’t noticed during their battle. Long, dark eyelashes brushed the upper portion of her cheek. Full, pink lips curved slightly upward in the beginnings of a smile. Smooth, pale skin made his fingers itch to touch the graceful line of her jaw. If she hadn’t chopped her hair short as a lad’s, her beauty would distract the most dutiful of soldiers. But she would have a difficult time of swordplay and wrestling with the flowing tresses of a lady. A lady? Fie! A lady doth use gentle words and voice. A woman this one be. A lady, nay, methinks not. His cock stiffened all the same. Too long without a welcoming, moist haven to swive. The shallow chits of the court had proven unfaithful to a knight sent on errands for his lord. Promised did not make a promise kept. “The lad will take offense to being harnessed to a tree.” Amalric lifted the stake from the spit, cutting into one cooked rabbit with his knife. Ranulf nodded and strode to the fire. Even with lowered voices, he still didn’t trust the woman not to hear their words. She might seem to be asleep, but she could just as well be pretending. “Aye, that he will, but ’tis for his protection. Dost thou thinkest to rouse him for a meal?” “Nay. I doth most prefer silence. He hath a goodly loud voice to

 

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wake the dead.” Amalric offered Ranulf a slice of meat and frowned. “Nearly bested by the young knave. Thirty and one years dost not feel old.” Ranulf agreed. They were the oldest knights in their lordship’s castle. Still the most skilled with longsword, bow, and in brawling. Wiser than the young fools who drank more ale than they could hold. Any maiden of their choosing gladly lifted her skirts for a tumble with either of them—not that Ranulf had taken advantage of it since his promise to his last lady at court had been made and broken. Nay, not old. “The lad hath better training than a goodly number of the young soldiers in our lord’s castle. A warrior by birth.” Amalric trimmed another slice from the carcass, chewing the lessthan-tender meat as he seemed to consider his thoughts. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice even further. “Whither dost thou thinkest she comes from? Tales of Norse women strong as men hath been told, but her hair be dark not fair.” “I know not and fear she is not of any place within a month’s ride by horse or ship. Fair of skin, yet dark of hair. She doth speaketh strangely, but she most sure is a woman.” Reaching for more to eat, Ranulf gave a low laugh. “The loins of a knight doth telleth true a wench.” With a snort, Amalric tossed the bones of the rabbit into the fire. “Verily, it is so, friend. A hand upon the round bottom of a lass dost maketh the stones hard.” A great bellow of a laugh joined Ranulf’s, echoing through the forest. Perchance, Amalric had put his advantage to goodly use while carrying the lass from the lea, just as Ranulf had smoothed his palm along her bosom as he bound her to the tree. Her mail armor had failed to hide her curves from his wandering hands. A growl had them both turning toward the woman posing as a boy. She struggled against the bindings as she pushed away from the tree with her feet until the leather strap halted the movement. Looking down, she seemed to suddenly notice the new fastening that leashed

 

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her to the trunk. Raising her head, she narrowed her gaze at them, sending a shiver up Ranulf’s backbone. She murmured around the strip of linen that kept her from yelling, her eyes pinning him in place. The cook fire flared. Flames shot upward, consuming the second rabbit. He and Amalric jumped back from the burst of heat, landing on their arses. Patting at the spray of embers on his breeches, Ranulf stood. “God’s teeth!” He turned to their prisoner. Humor seemed to dance in her eyes, and behind the gag, her lips curved upward. A sliver of fear rippled though his limbs. Beside him, Amalric kicked wet leaves onto the fire, smothering it. As he stomped on the last of the glowing coals, he cut a strip from his bloodied tunic. “Thou shalt have no supper, lad, and methinks thou doth need a cover for thy ill-mannered eyes.” Few incidents had unsettled Amalric in his life, but the wickedness in the woman’s eyes was one he wouldn’t soon forget. He had no doubt that she’d caused the flare in the fire. Though uncommon, witchcraft was not unheard of in the outlying areas of his lordship’s estate. Those guilty of the pagan practices usually came from other lands. Mayhap she was a witch. With that, he would take no chances. He approached her with a purposeful stride, walking to the rear of her. She watched him as he neared, pivoting when he tried to wrap the cloth around her head. “O! I ong eh u!” She ducked away from his hands, moving out of his reach as quickly as he bent to blindfold her. “O!” Planting his feet on the damp ground in front of her and crossing his arms over his chest, he debated the danger of becoming more forceful. “Didst thou maketh the fire flame?” Seemingly considering her answer, she looked up at him, then away. To his surprise, she didn’t nibble at her lip or clasp and unclasp the fingers of her bound hands. No show of angst, only courage and

 

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fortitude. She lifted her chin and met his gaze once again. She nodded—no spite in her countenance. He believed her. He also respected her show of honesty and the strength of her will. That didn’t mean he trusted her without a pledge. “Thou hath a choice. Vow not to useth thy trickery on us, or submit to the covering.” Even in the dimming light in the forest, the tightening of her jaw was obvious. She had little liking for her choices. He cared not for treating a woman such, either. “If thou maketh the oath not to call to the sharkan or raise thy voice to screeching, I wilt removeth the cloth from thy mouth as well.” A glance to Ranulf told Amalric that his friend doubted the wisdom of the offer. “One scream or one curse upon us, and the vow is broken. What say you, lad?”

 

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Chapter 4 Although she wanted to call for the sárkány at the top of her lungs, Lujza sat without making a sound. She could just as easily whisper a summoning chant and not risk the return of the gag or the placement of a blindfold. With her body and mind rested, staying awake while her captors slept wouldn’t be a problem. She’d use a simple spell to untie the knots of her bindings. “You had no right to stop me from my...quest.” She swallowed her anger and spoke in a calm, even tone to the men standing just out of her reach. “I have an important task to do, and you’re endangering the lives of my entire family by holding me against my will.” “’Tis our duty to protect the good people of this land from danger. Art thou a tenant or a trespasser?” The fair-haired Ranulf crouched in front of her. “Speaketh the truth.” “I am neither. I’m passing through.” Lifting her bound wrists above her head, she straightened her aching shoulders. “I told you, I have a task, one that doesn’t concern you.” Amalric frowned. “We escort all who pass through our lord’s lands as strangers, or assume they be enemies.” She barely refrained from snorting. “You treat strangers as enemies then? Fine, I am your enemy. Leave me be.” Rather than launching into a lengthy incantation guaranteed to make them even more suspicious of her, she pushed her heel into the ground to spin away and lean against the tree they’d leashed her to. Conversation had gotten her nowhere. She only needed to wait until they slept to escape, and losing her temper would make that more difficult.

 

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Muffled steps sounded behind her, but she didn’t turn to look. The sooner they bedded down for the night, the better. With the cloud cover, dusk had fallen sometime while she rested. The woods around her would become invisible in pitch-blackness in an hour or two. Then she would spell the bindings loose from her hands, feet, and waist. Patience. “What be your name?” She recognized Ranulf’s softer tone. Was this the knightly version of good cop-bad cop? Well, she didn’t play games, and she wasn’t playing along with theirs. “None of your business.” “Thou speaketh in a manner I dost not understand.” “And you talk weird, too, so I guess that makes us even. Be thou away from me, Sir Protector of Thy Lordship’s Realm.” Assuming a heavy sigh hadn’t changed much in meaning over the centuries, his frustration was clear. “Good evening, my captive.” Her heart skipped a beat at his possessive reference. No. Absolutely not. I will not let myself be taken in by false kindness and a handsome face. She’d fall for Amalric’s gruff-but-honest character first. At least he wouldn’t try to fool her into thinking he actually liked her. She wasn’t young and stupid anymore, and any belief in romanticism had died seven years ago. Men wanted women for sex, and they always made promises they didn’t intend to keep. “I do not belong to you.” He sighed again before moving away from her. His muttering carried to her ears, but she tuned it out after he said “stubborn.” He was right. She was stubborn. Obstinate. Headstrong. Tenacious. And damn proud of it. **** Amalric held back a laugh at Ranulf’s furrowed brow and frown. The lass had refused to soften with a show of interest in getting to know her. She was harder than many men he knew, and she seemed to

 

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find pleasure in testing their patience. He knew not why he longed to kiss her full lips and find her wellhidden curves. He preferred dainty women to those who possessed fortitude and a strong will. Dost I not? Did he truly want a tame gentlewoman who cowered at his every command? Perchance that was the reason he’d never maintained an interest in a maid for more than a fortnight. He enjoyed a challenge on the battlefield. Did he need a lover who tested his ability to endure her? Or would a lass with a forked tongue and mulish nature please him in their bed, only to send him to an early grave with the hardship of living with her? Waiting until Ranulf settled beside him, Amalric leaned in close enough that their prisoner wouldn’t overhear his words. “Escape be in her plans afore the morrow. Taketh the first watch. Waketh me when thou wilt.” Ranulf gave a nod then set to sharpening the blade of his knife. The steady rub of rock against metal calmed Amalric’s thoughts. He closed his eyes, trusting his friend to watch over the curious woman who seemed not to fear them. **** Don’t they sleep? Lujza peered toward the sound of footsteps, but she couldn’t see anything in the absolute black of night. The movement grew louder. Step, swish, step. The lighter footfalls told her that Ranulf paced the short distance between her and the usually stomping, but now possibly sleeping, Amalric. The dampness of the ground seeped through her clothes, sending goose bumps over her skin. Shivers wracked her body. The third night of November wasn’t a good time to camp in the rainy English woods. No blanket. A layer of linked metal rings flanked by a layer of linen and a layer of wool. No coat. How did her guards keep from freezing to death? Or better yet, why didn’t they freeze to death so she could

 

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rattle off a spell to untie herself? “Amalric.” Ranulf’s hissing whisper seemed loud in the still silence. “I be awake.” A rustling carried to her ears. “God’s thumbs! ’Tis cold.” As if I need a reminder. Letting out a slow exhale, her teeth chattered. She stiffened her jaw, trying to quiet the noise. “Thou art cold?” Ranulf’s voice came from someplace close, but damned if she could see him. She didn’t answer. Most likely, they wouldn’t give her a cape or a blanket to get warm anyway. Not that anything would help when she was sitting on the wet ground. More rustling and footsteps. “Prisoner or no, ’tis better to share a cloak on a chill autumn night than not.” A blanket of weight settled over her head and shoulders, thick and slightly scratchy cloth slid across her cheek, and the heat of a human body bumped into her hip. She tensed, not wanting to seem too eager for warmth. Showing any weakness gave them power over her. An arm wrapped around her back. “How fare thee? Our blood will soon warm.” Why did his innocent comment make her think of sex? The act was awkward and unsatisfying, and any promises made during the groping and prodding couldn’t be trusted. She’d found that out the hard way. Men felt no commitment during the rutting. They were only concerned with their own pleasure. Another shiver shook her. “Our blood would already be warm if Amalric hadn’t put out the fire.” A hollow laugh came from somewhere in the dark. “Had thou not used sorcery on the fire, it wouldst still burn. Placeth the blame whither it belongs.” She huddled closer to Ranulf and lowered her voice. “Is he always so self-righteous?” He chuckled and rested his cold palm over her icy hands.

 

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“Whence I be right.” Amalric’s voice made her jump. The man heard far too well. She couldn’t hold in her sarcastic retort. “I suppose you find no fault in attacking and tying up a stranger who meant you no harm?” Boots stomped toward her. “’Tis my duty to protect. Thou needest protection from the sharkan.” Frozen limbs and near blindness kept her from trying to push to her feet. “You know nothing about the sárkány. You probably attacked her, too.” Ranulf stiffened beside her. “Her? The creature be female? How knowest thou this?” Lu cursed her temper for giving her a loose tongue. She could hardly explain to them that she’d spelled the dragon into their realm from a children’s storybook. Nor could she tell them she was a witch from nearly seven hundred years in the future. “A woman recognizes another woman.” Let them argue with that logic. “Ha!” Amalric’s fingers gripped her chin. How can he see me in this pitch? “Thou art a maid!” Goddess, she should’ve kept her mouth shut. They’d led her right into a trap. Of course, now she could put them in their rightful places. “And this woman would’ve kicked both your asses if you’d fought like real men, instead of two against one.” Ranulf’s belly laugh vibrated through her. “The lass be truthful, Amalric.” “Speakest thou for yourself. And thou, fair lass, hath the mouth of a drunken knight.” “A sore loser, are you?” She slapped at Amalric’s hand, knocking it away. “I disarmed you. That means I win in swordplay. If you want to challenge me in hand-to-hand combat, I’ll be glad to show you my superior skill in that area as well. Evidently, you already find my language at least equal to your own.” Damn, I wish I could see Amalric’s facial expression. No one bested her in an argument, and the fact that she was a female holding

 

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her own against him had to be killing the man with his antiquated, macho double standard. “Perchance on the morrow, lass.” Scooting closer, Ranulf gathered their cover around them more tightly. “Now, wilt thou tell us thy name?” “Not unless you untie me.” Since he seemed obsessed with knowing her name, she used the only leverage she had to free herself. A grunt came from the darkness. “’Tis unimportant, Ranulf. The wench doth needest a keeper. Whither is thy husband, woman?” I’d like to wither you. “I have no husband.” “Thy father?” Boot steps moved nearer again. “At home with my mother and sisters.” Lu peered into the night, trying in vain to catch just a flash of movement. “And wherefore are thou not with thy family? Dost they knowest whither thou art?” All the translation into modern English was making her brain hurt, not to mention testing her patience. “I told you I have a task. They know where I am, and I don’t need their permission to do anything. I’m a grown woman, capable of taking care of myself.” “’Tis the duty of thy father to protect you, and a grown woman becometh the duty of her husband. Wherefore art thou not betrothed?” The heavy tread stopped in front of her. She had half a notion to kick out her legs and trip Amalric to stop his infernal pacing and distract him from further questions about marriage and family. “Are you married? You must be about what, thirty years old?” His growl surprised her. Had she hit a sore spot? “One and thirty years hath I and hath yet to take a wife. I be a man. ’Tis different for a lass.” Amalric strained to see the outline of Ranulf and their captive. Somehow, she’d turned the tables on him, asking about his life when she should be answering his questions about hers. A sudden movement drew his attention a moment too late. A boot

 

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connected with his ankle. “Ow! Wherefore didst thou kickest me?” “You male chauvinist pig! A twenty-eight-year-old woman does not need a man to protect her!” She kicked him again. The pain in his shinbone distracted his brain from the shrill insult. What had she said? A male clovenist pig? Was she calling him a cloven-footed hog? And eight and twenty years be far past the time a lass should leave her father’s home to wed—though the chance be right goodly that she’d scared off every man with her coarse speech and shrewish nature. An unexpected surge of relief at the knowledge shook him to the core. Her betrothal or lack thereof should mean naught to him. Ranulf clucked his tongue. “Lass, ’tis not safe for thee to go about alone. There be robbers in the countryside. Thy skills cannot best four or more foul outlaws at once. Whence they discover thou art a woman, methinks thou wouldst suffer great damage at their hands.” Amalric’s stomach sickened at that thought. A clever shrew she might be, but not strong enough to thwart an attack on her maidenhood. He stepped out range of her feet. “Thy bindings stay.” He strode away before she could speak again, crossing the camp to listen for trespassers. Any thieves travelling near the edge of the forest would’ve heard their voices and had no trouble approaching without detection. He refused to fail at his watch.

 

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Chapter 5 Disquieting dreams disturbed Lujza’s slumber, waking her as dim light began to penetrate the night. She blinked to clear her bleary vision. Skeletal tops of trees came into focus first, and then a darkbearded man leaning against a trunk, his eyes closed. His head dipped downward an inch at a time, as if he was losing his battle with sleep. Where was she? Was she still dreaming? No. The spell. Amalric. She lifted her head from the warm but not very soft pillow. Ranulf. The knights from the tapestry. She started to lift a hand to scratch her cheek, but both rose, bumping into an arm draped over her stomach. Still tied up. Stubborn, overprotective males. She shifted, turning her head to ease the stiffness in her neck. A sharp crack and a faint movement fifty yards to her left brought her fully awake. With a hissing whisper, she tried to rouse her captors. “Amalric. Ranulf.” Neither altered his position. She whispered a little louder, wary of alerting whoever was roaming the forest. Another snap sounded, closer than the first. Amalric’s eyes popped open. He stared directly at her, giving a slight shake of his head. What does he mean? As quick as the question came to her, she knew the answer. Don’t move. Slowly sliding down the tree trunk, he crossed the camp on his hands and knees, aiming for her. Ranulf shifted against her, his mouth close to her ear. “How many?” Rather than risking being heard, she shrugged, hoping he understood the gesture. A flicker of movement behind Amalric sent

 

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panic racing through her veins. “Look out!” Amalric rolled away as a muddy figure leaped toward him, armed with a crude blade. Another unkempt man ran into the camp from the other side. Ranulf struggled free of the blanket, grabbing his weapon from the ground as he stood, leaving Lu to watch the fray. Metal clanked against metal, both knights engaging their opponents in an all-too-real bout of life and death. A third and fourth attacker ran into the small clearing straight toward her. Ranulf lunged to the side of his foe but was blocked and unable to come to her aid. Anger surged through her. Bound, unarmed, and about to be killed more than six hundred years before she was born. When all is at stake, the risk of dying in a fight beats not being able to fight back. Raising her tied wrists, she fought to stay calm and lowered her voice to sound like a boy. “Cut my bindings! The lousy swine hath stoleth my blade!” One villain gave her a nearly toothless grin, clearly thinking to increase their chances of defeating Amalric and Ranulf. He sliced his knife through the twine on her wrists and again at her ankles. “Make haste, lad.” Ignoring the stiffness in her muscles, she detoured around the fighting to the place her captors had laid her sword yesterday afternoon. She gripped the handle, turning it in her palm to balance the blade, and then grinned at the scoundrel who’d freed her. Two quick steps put her within a sword-length of Amalric. He swung in an upward arc, ripping the grip from his foe’s hand and sending the inferior weapon end over end into the back of Ranulf’s opponent. She noted Amalric’s open stance and glanced toward her emancipators. They nodded at her. Grasping the handle with both hands, she pointed the tip at Amalric. “You’re a fast learner. You only saw me use that move once. Now, it’s three against three.” “Thou art a most skilled teacher. I thank thee for thy example.” He bowed before her.

 

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Ranulf turned to face the two remaining armed intruders and their unarmed cohort. “Taketh thy leave, or join thy companion in Hell.” The toothless man scowled and narrowed his eyes at Lu. “Thou sayeth—” She laughed and forced her brain and her tongue into medievalspeak. “They didst steal my sword. However, thou failed to inquire whither I would side.” His partners in crime grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him toward the north edge of the forest. Their mumbling and complaining carried to her ears, but she tuned out the noise. “How fare thee, lass?” Lowering his blade, Ranulf strode to her and Amalric. “Prithee, tell me thou art uninjured?” The adrenaline rush began to ebb, and she pivoted so she couldn’t see the body in the middle of their camp. Her stomach lurching and her hands shaking, she fought to keep her voice steady. “I’m fine.” “Thou art skilled in other forms of trickery besides witchcraft.” She jerked her head around at Amalric’s too-close-for-comfort observation. “Thou, too, could have choseth to escape and didst not. Thy loyalty be most true to the side of good.” A compliment from the man who had no patience for her? “They might have set me free, but they would’ve killed me for a crumb of food. I will stay.” For now. **** Following behind the fair lass toward the lake, Amalric couldn’t stop his eyes from straying to the lovely curve of her bottom and the shapely legs beneath. What he wouldn’t sacrifice to have those strong calves wrapped around his waist as he slipped into her welcoming cunt. The sway of her hips mesmerized him. She be a witch. Verily, it is so. No other woman had ever made his cock so hard. His prisoner had a quick sword, a quicker wit, and the kind of strength not common to women. As badly as seeing the dead robber

 

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seemed to disturb her, she hadn’t gone into a faint or shed a tear. She hadn’t begged for a comforting shoulder, only asked that they bathe to wash off the filth from carrying away the body of the thief and sleeping on the ground. If he were to take a wife, she would please him well and good. With several long strides, he walked beside her. “Wilt thou tell us thy name, lass?” A mischievous smile lit up her dark brown eyes. “You didn’t untie me. I freed myself.” “A right smart wench thou be.” A challenging one to be sure. “Thou doth not trust us still?” Her eyebrows arched higher, and she seemed to consider his question. “I am Lujza.” She doth not wish to trust us. “Louisa. ’Tis a pretty name.” “Ha! Call me Lu, or ‘hey you.’ Louisa sounds girlie and isn’t the correct pronunciation of my name anyway.” “What is this pro-nun-sation?” Why did she use the most foreign words? She grinned and shook her head. “Why so talkative all of a sudden, Amalric? You’re not thinking you’re going to get laid, are you? Because that’s not happening. Men know nothing about pleasing a woman in bed.” Laid? Did she mean fucking? “Thou hath taken less a man than I to thy bed then, Lu.” Ranulf glanced over his shoulder. “And I, lass.” “Oh, great. Now I’m stuck with a pair of horny knights who think they’re experts at giving women orgasms. Bet you tell them how special they are and make promises you never intend to keep.” Amalric frowned. “I doth not maketh false promises. Only a man without honor wouldst tell untruths to his bed partner.” A snort came from Ranulf. “Or a woman.” Lu stopped walking. “You’re joking. Women don’t tell men that they’ll marry them, then sleep with another man at the first chance.”

 

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Ranulf spun round to face her. “Perchance thou wouldst not. Other lasses wouldst.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry, whoever the unfaithful whore is.” Amalric clenched his fist as he returned to her side, anger surging through him. “A man hath done such to thee, lass? Thy father didst not demand the scurrilous dog honor his vow?” She looked away. “I didn’t tell my family. I was young and stupid, and he wasn’t worth the effort.” “A king be not worthy of thee.” Grasping her hand, he started walking again. “Come, we wilt talketh no more of faithless lovers.” Ranulf agreed. Remembering lovers from time past gave thought to those undeserving of his attention, and he had another dilemma to puzzle over. Louisa. Nay. Lu. Amalric’s actions spoke of a man courting a woman—the same woman Ranulf admired and, to be told most truthfully, had developed a liking for. Watching his friend walk ahead of him, with Lu’s hand cradled in his, sparked jealousy in his heart. They had not fought over a woman in all the years of their companionship, but Lu was unlike any that either had been drawn to, or ever met. Would the argument come to fists and swords? Ranulf dared to hope not. Passing the edge of the forest brought them into the midday sun. The brightness warmed his cool skin, almost tricking him into believing late summer was at hand rather than fall. A pleasant surprise. Most like Lu. They crossed a narrow lea to the sloping bank of the lake. Amalric released Lu’s hand, halting as he tugged his tunic over his head. His mail shirt landed next to it several moments later. He sat on the ground to remove his boots. Lu did the same, lifting her smiling face toward the sky. “I’m warm for the first time since I left home yesterday.” Ranulf’s heart swelled as he watched her. The beautiful curves of her body drew his gaze, and his cock responded. He wanted to strip the thin layer of linen from her and feast on the full roundness of her

 

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breasts. Her breeches would follow, and he’d taste and touch and fuck her until she knew more pleasure than she imagined possible. He’d prove to her that a man could satisfy her. “Yesterday?” Amalric’s serious tone brought Ranulf back to reality. “Thou art from a land I know naught of. How couldst thou cometh that far distance in half a day?” Her eyes widened, and her jaw tightened. She stood, walking into the lake until her feet were submerged in the water. “Did I say yesterday? I meant last month.” Ranulf had become an expert at spotting lies with his faithless betrothed. Lu’s supposed misspoken words were a ruse. She kept secrets from them—about her task, her home, mayhap her family. An accusation would only make her more wary of placing her trust in Amalric and him, but his curiosity demanded that he glean more information. “’Tis the fourth day of the month of November. Hast thou traveled without escort for the whole of October?” Looking at something across the lake, Lu nodded. Amalric gave him a warning glance. His friend had noted her mistruths as well and clearly did not wish to pursue the truth. How many days and weeks would pass afore she told them the honest details about her life? An attempt to force her would do naught to encourage trust. Removing his tunic, mail, shirt, and boots, Ranulf carried his blood- and mud-stained clothing to the water. He strode into the lake up to his knees and set to work scrubbing his tunic and shirt. They would dry right quickly in the warm sunshine while he bathed. Amalric joined him, washing his clothing, and then returning to the shore to lay it on the grass. As he straightened, his fingers worked the buttons of his breeches. Casting a grin at Ranulf, followed by a glance in Lu’s direction, he shoved them down his legs, baring his ass and half-hard cock. Would she take offense to male nudity? Not willing to let his friend gain the advantage in the courtship, Ranulf wrung the water from his shirts and walked to the bank. With

 

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his clothing spread over the grass, he stripped off his breeches, exposing his own erection. He followed Amalric into the lake. “I knew it! Two horny knights showing off their pricks. You aren’t going to duel over who gets sex with me, are you? Because I have the final say, no matter what you think.” A grin and a laugh escaped. Why had he never realized the draw of a woman who spoke her thoughts without reservation? “Amalric be much like a brother to me. I wouldst not kill him over the loving of a lass.” Amalric snorted. “Thy proclamation means naught. Thou wouldst not be the victor in a battle of swords, brother.” “Here we go again.” Lu stepped out of the water and lifted the linen shirt over her head, displaying a narrow waist and an odd contraption that embraced her generous breasts, covering little more than her ripe nipples. She began pushing her breeches past the lovely curves of her hips and down strong thighs toward her ankles. “Why do men always have to flex their muscles and claim they can kick another guy’s ass to impress a girl?” A triangular scrap of cloth and the bits covering her tight buds revealed more than they concealed. Ranulf swallowed a groan at the ache in his cock. His hand gripped its hard length, stroking up and down. “Thou art most beautiful, Lu.” “Verily, it is so.” Amalric’s voice was low and hoarse. “Well, I have to say that I haven’t been wooed by a pair of naked masturbating men before.” A flush of color washed over her exposed skin, and her fingertips skimmed back and forth along her upper legs. She lifted her face to the sky again. “Where’s the first-quarter moon? It should’ve risen by now.” Wherefore wouldst she ask about the moon? Ranulf counted the days in his head. “’Twas a full moon behind the clouds last night.” She paled as quickly as she’d blushed, burying her face in her palms. “No. Oh, please, no. No, no, no!”

 

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Chapter 6 Panic flooded Lu’s mind. She now knew why desire had flooded her body. The moon cycle. How could she have forgotten? The fourth of November in her real life might still be two days from the full moon phase, but in whatever year in the past she’d traveled to, November fourth fell on the scourge of her existence. The beginning of her second fertility period. The last had occurred a few weeks after she turned twenty-one. The women in her family became fertile every seven years during the week between the full moon and the third-quarter moon immediately following a multiple-of-seven birthday. Beginning at twenty-one and ending at forty-two—offering four opportunities to find the love of her life and have a child. After the first miserable, failed attempt to find her mate, she’d renounced her duty to produce a daughter for the Macska line. True love didn’t exist for all. Unfortunately, the hormones driving Lu to make a baby would also destroy any common sense she normally used to control her emotions. Like now, while she tried not to stare at Amalric and Ranulf. Naked. Incredibly masculine. Ready for sex, if their standingat-attention dicks were any indication. The need to touch and taste them forced her fingers to unhook her bra and shove her panties down her legs. Her breath came in shaky, panting gulps. The blood in her veins pulsed to her clit. Moisture gushed from her pussy. She was ready to mate. She needed to mate. The water fought against her forward progress as she strode into the lake toward the men who’d promised they could give her sexual enjoyment. Unable to choose one over the other, she stopped between

 

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them, reaching out to cradle both sets of their balls in her hands. “Show me what you can do to please me.” Amalric’s free hand snaked around her neck, pulling her close enough to cover her mouth with his. He pressed several light kisses to her lips before sliding his tongue along the seam. Her nearly nonexistent will to resist died. She met his invasion with a forceful thrust, sparring with him as a growl rumbled from his mouth into her throat. It sparked a surge of primal desire, and she nipped at his tongue. Lightly furred skin rubbed against her back, and hands cupped her breasts. Something long and hard lay nestled in the valley of her ass. Ranulf. Another stiff dick brushed her stomach. Amalric. Sandwiched between them, relief seemed within reach. “Wilt thou saveth a kiss for me, sweet Lu?” Teeth tugged at her earlobe, sending a rush of tingles to her nipples and down her arms to her fingers. She could only moan her response past the aggressive tongue in her mouth. With intense yearning coursing through her, she longed for more. Dragging her lips from Amalric’s, she bit his shoulder and arched into his erection. “Give me what I want.” “What dost thou want, love?” His finger dipped into her wetness, the thick digit impaling her. A spasm rippled through her pussy. Thumbs rubbed over the hard nubs on her breasts, triggering another quick pulse of sensation. She struggled to breathe and speak as lips caressed her neck. “More. I want more. Please.” Amalric’s brown eyes darkened until they were almost black, and a wicked smile sent his mouth curving upward. He wiggled his finger inside her, setting off more tremors. “Wouldst thou be offended were I to taste thy womanly juices and lick thy moist petals?” “Yes. I mean, no. Oh, please eat my pussy.” Pussy? Amalric lowered himself to his knees, hoping Lu’s strange word had the meaning of his thoughts. He lifted her leg to rest upon

 

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his shoulder, the movement exposing the pink flesh hiding her most precious jewel. Her earthy smell made his cock twitch and his mouth long for a taste. Was she ready? A look up at her face provided all the answer he needed. Ranulf had taken over the enjoyable task of kissing her, his hands massaging the berry-tipped mounds of her tits. Neither he nor Ranulf had shared a woman prior to this day, but loving Lu together seemed a natural way to give her the pleasure she begged. They would take her to the most high of heaven, showing her that a man—or men—could bring her the greatest of womanly joys. Kissing a path up her inner thigh, Amalric leashed the urge to carry her to the bank and bury himself inside her. Her skin was soft and smooth beneath his lips, lean muscle shaping her strong legs. The lack of fine hairs on her knee and calf puzzled him. Didst she come from a race of peoples with little hair on their bodies? Studying the triangle of dark curls above her pretty cunt, he pressed his mouth to her musky wetness instead of thinking about unimportant matters. A breathy moan came from above him. His tongue slipped between her slick folds, lapping up the sweet nectar of her desire. She squirmed against him, and he grasped her hips, holding her in place as he sought her hiding, swollen gem. A long swipe past her tight tunnel to the juncture of her lower lips yielded a firm, wet bud. He flicked over it, back and forth, back and forth. Another upward glance sent a surge of white heat to his ballocks. Ranulf’s tongue circled Lu’s nipple, and then he sucked it into his mouth. Grateful for his friend’s aid in pleasuring her, Amalric focused all his attention on licking her sweet pussy. Lu’s unrestrained feminine cries almost made Ranulf spend his seed in the water. She trembled and convulsed against him, Amalric’s mouth still on the delicate bud in her nethermost lips. The spark of jealousy had fled, replaced by lust and the need to show Lu the pleasure she deserved. Working together, he and Amalric had proven that honorable men saw to a lover’s satisfaction before their own.

 

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Amalric finally released her, returning her foot to the sandy floor of the lake and standing with a triumphant smile on his face. He leaned in to nuzzle her neck. “Thou art most tasty.” Lu grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him back. “Are you tasty, too? I want to suck your cock.” She turned her heavy-lidded eyes to Ranulf. “Fuck me. Please.” Ranulf’s heart stopped for a beat then threatened to pound through his chest. “Thou hath no need to beg.” He led her to waist-deep water, where Amalric helped her float on her back, guiding her mouth to his erection. Ranulf wrapped her legs around his waist and lined up his shaft at her entrance. In one swift thrust, he buried himself in her wet heat. Her inner walls squeezed and pulsed as he savored joining with her. With slow, deep strokes, he glided in and out of her welcoming cunt. She moaned around the cock in her mouth, Amalric’s hips matching his rhythm. Her full mounds of flesh bobbed and swayed with the movement. Unable to maintain the metered control, Ranulf picked up the pace, driving deeper and harder with each forward plunge. Her body arched, gripping him tighter, and her muffled screams told him she was leaping off the edge of bliss once again. “Yes, sweet Lu! Let thy body and mind fly!” A low growl came from Amalric, and he stiffened with his cock balls-deep in her mouth. Following them both, Ranulf surrendered to the flood of pure joy, emptying himself into her pussy. Her eyes drifted closed as he memorized her thoroughly satisfied expression. Any emotion he thought he’d felt for another woman paled in comparison. He knew in his heart that she was the one he was destined to love. Letting Amalric’s softening dick slide from her lips, Lu closed her eyes, hoping the water droplets on her face hid the tears trying to escape. She had never dreamed sex could be so incredible. So amazing. So fulfilling. Goddess, she’d begged two men to make love

 

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to her. No, not make love. Fuck. There’s a difference. Had her cousin Kata experienced this feeling with her mates? Not that Ranulf and Amalric could possibly be Lu’s mates. When she spelled herself home, her lovers would no longer exist. Dead for centuries. Her stomach cramped. Amalric lifted her by the shoulders toward Ranulf’s chest. He cradled her from behind, sandwiching her between them. “Thou art convinced, love?” Convinced? Yes, she was convinced she’d made a huge mistake. Love. Sweet Lu. Their implied promises were no less disheartening than spoken ones. She’d been right all along. They were a pair of horny knights wanting to show off their skills and get laid. Yet, they had given her an orgasm—two really good ones, actually—which was more than she could say for the only other guy she’d slept with. “Yes, I am convinced.” Convinced. Depressed. Stupid. Idiotic hormones. At least she didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant. Neither of the men who happened to be in the right place at the right time loved her, and a Macska daughter couldn’t be conceived during casual sex. True love was the one necessary ingredient Lu couldn’t contribute to the recipe for her child. “Thou art content with us then?” Ranulf brushed her wet hair from her forehead. Too content. She unhooked her ankles from around his waist, standing in the cool water as his flaccid cock slid free. Unable to tolerate their version of pillow talk any longer, she eased out from between them and began walking toward the shore. “The sex was good.” Even without looking over her shoulder, she knew they were watching her. An uncomfortable tension in her back told her their eyes were upon her. Most likely, they’d expected her to demand some sort of commitment or promise, but she’d learned the hard way that men weren’t sentimental and didn’t place any value on a woman

 

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giving her body to them. Sex didn’t equal love. In fact, sex had very little to do with love. She had no desire to make the situation any more awkward than it is already was. They thought she was a horny, kinky whore, and she wasn’t about to waste her breath trying to tell them otherwise. Stepping into the grass, she slicked her hands over her arms and legs, removing as much water as she could before dressing. Time to focus on her task. She hurried into her bra and panties while she considered her options. If she came up with a reasonable excuse, she could slip away now to recover the spellbook and cast the sárkány into the children’s story she’d come from. Or she could wait until they returned to camp. Water splashed as she tugged her leggings over her damp thighs. “Art thou feeling unwell?” Amalric’s question sent a pang of guilt through her, but she couldn’t pass up this golden opportunity. “I’m a little chilled and tired. I think I’ll lie down for a nap after I put on my shirt.” “Ranulf and I shalt not be long bathing. Thou needest a hot meal as well.” The mention of food made her stomach queasy. It had given up hope of a meal hours ago. She nodded and grabbed her linen shirt. “The air is cool here by the lake. I’m going up farther on the bank to rest.” “Taketh thy weapon with thee, love. ’Tis not safe. We wilt not be long coming.” The water splashed again. She shrugged into her shirt, then picked up her sword and headed up the bank. As much as her body longed for a nap, she had more important duties. She settled in the slightly taller grass at the top of the hill, pretending to lie down. After several moments, she crawled away on her hands and knees toward the edge of the woods. If she followed the line of trees to the north, the path would take her straight to the rocky area where she’d first appeared. Glancing behind her, she chanced getting to her feet so she could

 

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move more quickly, putting distance between her and the men who’d try to stop her.

 

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Chapter 7 Amalric ducked his head underwater, rinsing his hair and twelve days’ worth of beard. The remainder of his body was clean enough for his liking, especially when Lu slept unguarded on the bank of the lake. Far too many villains were about of late to leave her alone. Shaking the water from his hair, he aimed for the shore. Ranulf caught up to him as small waves lapped at his knees. He was silent for several steps. “What dost thou thinkest of... Didst thou enjoy...” His friend’s incomplete questions and hesitation said more than the words themselves. They hadn’t spoken since Lu’s departure. Like Amalric, Ranulf must have needed time to think about their experience with her. Sharing the love of a woman was new territory for both of them. Did Ranulf regret what had happened? Or did he worry that Lu regretted it? She’d pleaded with them to please her, but did concern weigh on her mind over their opinion of such a lusty lass? “Watching thou touch and swive her raised my enjoyment, to know we increased her pleasure twofold.” Amalric reached for his breeches. “Thou art smitten, as am I, friend. If she will take us both, I will gladly share. I hath no wish to make her choose.” “And should she choose only one of us?” Ranulf pulled on his clothes over his wet skin. “I do not believe that one man can please her. I will share, or refuse. I cannot hurt a lifelong friend for a lover.” “She is truly like no other lass. To see thy mouth on her cunt... We gave her pleasure together. ’Twas a moment I shall not forget. I longed to swive her all the more.”

 

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Amalric sat to put on his boots. “Then our minds do think the same. Come, we must provide a meal and protection for our sweet love.” They carried their mail and tunics up the gently sloping bank, not wanting the tedious task of oiling the links after wearing their armor over their still-damp shirts. Tracing Lu’s path through the grass, they came to flattened area, but she wasn’t there. Fighting the urgent need to find her, Amalric studied another trail leading toward the forest. “One track, Amalric. No signs of struggle, and we heard but naught.” Ranulf tossed his load to the ground. “She hath tricked us! A common whore she be, to distract us whilst she escapes!” Hurt drove the nasty words from his mouth, Amalric knew, but Ranulf was wrong. “She runneth away for fear that we be using her for our pleasure. Didst she not say that a man hath lied to her while he partook of her body?” His friend’s temper seemed to die in an instant. “Betrayal be within my own experience. I should not have named her such.” Amalric nodded. “’Tis all right, Ranulf. I knoweth whither she goes. She will tend to her task afore she leaves. Let us hie to the beast’s den.” **** Hunching over to enter the narrow opening in the rocks, Lu prayed to the Goddess that hungry animals hadn’t stolen the food she’d left there yesterday. She squeezed along the crack. On the ground lay the sack of fruit, cheese, and bread Great Grandmother Romána had packed for her. Crouching down, she untied the twine holding the bag closed. Her hand clutched an apple on the first dip. She took a large bite, too hungry to waste time on tasting. Besides, Amalric and Ranulf would be hot on her heels when they realized she was gone. Another bite of apple, a chunk of cheese, and a few crumbs of bread.

 

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Resealing the sack, she fantasized about the hot meal she’d eat when she returned home. Rebeka’s gulyás and peasant bread. Her older sister was the best cook in the family. First, she had to incant the dragon back into her story and retrieve the spellbook. Easing forward, she peered out the hole. No sign of her brave and sexy knights. No, not hers. They had only wanted to prove their sexual abilities to her. Hadn’t they challenged her to deny their remarkable skills? Not once had they said anything about an emotional investment in the experience. Nor had they pretended to commit themselves to her. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. She might be helpless to fight her fertility hormones, but she was no fool when it came to her heart. With the rest of her apple in hand, she jogged along the face of the rocks, searching for a large enough cave to accommodate a forty-foot -long, mythical, winged, fire-breathing dragon. A low rumble carried to her ears. The rock wall dove inward, revealing a deep cavern hidden in shadows. Adrenaline shot through Lu’s veins just as she caught whiff of spice and volcanic heat. Slowing her pace, she entered the recess and whispered to keep her voice from echoing. “Sárkány? Are you here, my dear friend?” Another rumble came from the shadows on a wisp of smoke. “Oh, sárkány, I’m sorry.” She stopped just outside the darkness and reached out her hand. “I didn’t mean to send you away. I’m so sorry.” Warm breath teased her fingertips, sending a thrill up her spine. Golden eyes glowed several feet in front of her, moving closer. A moment later, smooth scales caressed her palm. Her throat tightened, and a tear coursed down her cheek. “I’ve missed you, sárkány.” A crimson snout slowly appeared out of the shadows, nudging Lu on the shoulder. The little bit of sun creeping into the cavern reflected off the glittering red layers of armor. Talons clicked on the stone floor

 

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as the dragon stepped out of the darkness. Lu walked with her to the outer wall of the cave. “You’re more beautiful than I remembered.” Lujza stroked the polished surface of the long, sleek neck. “I came to spell you home, back to the safe place in your storybook.” Purring vibrated her hand. “I’m glad that makes you happy. May I rescue my spellbook from your treasure after you go? My novice has much to learn about casting.” One golden eye met hers, and the dragon’s elegant head moved up and down. “Thank you for your generosity, sárkány.” Lu held out the remains of her apple. “And I will likewise share with you, my friend.” Tossing up the piece of fruit, she laughed when the dragon snapped it out of the air. “Good catch!” “Thou wilt share with us, lad, or we wilt taketh all.” She turned at the sound of the rough voice and male laughter. A trio of filthy men formed a half-circle around the entrance to the cave. Reaching over her shoulder for her sword, she pulled the blade from its sheath and assumed a defensive position—knees bent, weight on the balls of her feet, both hands on the handle of her longsword. The largest of the thieves grinned, revealing missing and rotted teeth. He gripped a crude blade in his beefy fingers, the muscles in his thigh-sized bicep straining at the ragged sleeves of his tunic. “Thou hath chosen to die by a slit across thy throat. We wilt help ourselves to thy food and the beast’s treasure.” His partners in crime edged closer, and behind her, sárkány exhaled a smoky breath. The ringleader charged. **** Ranulf trotted over the last hillock ahead of Amalric, more afraid of arriving past time to save Lu from the serpent than of the serpent itself. He slowed to scan the rocks. Amalric walked beside him for

 

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three steps before pointing to the entrance to the sharkan’s lair. A man ran toward Lu, his weapon at the ready. Trapped between the forayer and the red beast, she stood with her sword balanced in her hands. Two more men stood several paces from the siege. Panic cramped Ranulf’s stomach. He dropped his mail as he started down the hill at a run. “Fie!” Lu’s attacker took his eyes off her for a moment at the sudden call. His boot caught on the uneven rocks, and he stumbled into Lu’s blade, ramming her shoulder as he fell on his own. She tumbled backward. Sympathetic pain pierced Ranulf’s head as she landed on the cave floor. An enormous roar echoed through the air as flames shot out the sharkan’s mouth, surrounding the two remaining robbers in its blazing fire. Their screams silenced as quickly as they began, charred bodies dropping to the ground. Grasping the third in its talons, the serpent tossed the bloody thief onto the blackened bones. The steaming snout nosed at Lu’s still form as yellow eyes turned toward Ranulf. His heart stopped in his chest. Hurt not my sweet Lu, beast. I ask thee most humbly. Halting just beyond the dead, he and Amalric stood side by side, panting from their hurry. The sharkan seemed to debate setting fire to them or allowing them to live. It—no, she—nudged Lu again, and then backed into the shadows of the cave. “Her chest rises and falls. She be alive still.” Amalric’s whisper unstuck Ranulf’s feet, and he hurried to lift Lu into his arms. “We must needs be away afore the sharkan returneth.” With a nod, Ranulf followed Amalric toward the forest, thankful for every breath Lu took. **** Amalric lifted the length of linen from the warm caudle of tree

 

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bark, plant roots, and water, trying not to allow the odor near his nose. Lu’s head lay on his lap, her eyes closed. She had yet to awaken from her wound, and he cared not to think about the dangers of rapping one’s skull upon a rock. “The lass be strong.” Ranulf stirred the fire beneath the spit. “Sleep wilt help with the healing.” Amalric began swathing the knot at the back of her head in the linen. “Thou art distressed, same as I. What thinks thou about the sharkan? The beast didst not attempt to hurt us.” “Lu be a witch by her own declaration, and she hath called to the sharkan. Dost thou thinketh she be its mistress? Or perchance, ’tis her task to return the sharkan from whence it came.” “That task be a good and proper one in keeping the countryfolk safe from forayers. Though, ’tis not the duty of a lass.” Done with the last circling of her head, Amalric tied the ends. “Pardie! I dost favor gutting a hare to mixing a caudle. But for the pleasure of holding Lu in my arms, I wouldst chooseth blood and bowels.” Ranulf laughed. “’Twas my hunt today, else I wouldst gladly gather and prepare the caudle, no matter the stench. Luck be with thee, friend.” “Aye.” Leaning against the tree trunk behind him, Amalric looked up to the darkening sky. “’Tis clear. No rain, but the night wilt bring cold with it. We hath need of a fire and the heat of three bodies huddled within our cloaks to keep the chill from her.” “Ooh. What is that awful smell?” Lu’s mumbled grievance made him smile. The mortally wounded seldom complained of such things. She tried to sit up, but he put his forearm across her chest. “Reminds me of Rebeka’s so-called remedies.” “’Tis a caudle.” He led her fingers to the binding. “Rebeka? She be the healer in thy village?” “My older sister. She makes potions for everyone suffering anything from sore throats to sprained ankles.” Amalric hesitated to ask his next question, uncertain he wished the

 

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answer. “Thy sister be a witch as thee?” Lifting the spit from the fire, Ranulf turned toward Lu. A small smile curved her lips upward. “All the women in my family are witches. It is our heritage.” She seemed right proud of that heritage. Amalric eased her hand away from her forehead. “Thy mother be a witch? Not thy father?” “My mother, her mother, her grandmother. My sisters, cousins, their daughters. The men are from outside the family. They’re mated to the Macska women.” “Mated? I doth not understand. Thy family doth play chess to choose the betrothed?” She pushed away his arm and struggled to sit. “Wed, not mated like chess. Sort of. It’s a private ceremony performed by the matriarch.” “Thou useth odd words. I doth not understand.” “The matriarch is the oldest female in the family. Right now, that would be Great Grandmother Romána, my mother’s grandmother. She’s very old and wise.” Ranulf sliced a chunk of meat from the hare, offering it to Lu. “Thy family hath no male offspring to carry on thy name, Mach-ka?” “No. Well, except for my cousin Kata. She’s expecting twins in February. A daughter and a son. He’s the first.” “The husbands of thy family care not that their wives dost not bear sons for them?” Cutting another piece from the carcass, Ranulf gave it to Amalric. Lu grinned and laughed. “Hate to burst your bubble, guys, but men decide if the baby is male or female. No sons? It’s your own fault.” From her strange words, Amalric tried to understand her meaning. “How doth thou knowest the husband makes the babe?” She groaned. “Never mind. You wouldn’t get it if I explained it to you. Xs and Ys and DNA. It’s a bit beyond the scope of your

 

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scientific knowledge. You’ll have to trust me on this.” Her talk confounded him. Didst all the people of O-hi-o speak thusly? “I wilt trust thee.” “And I.” Ranulf looked as unwilling to have an explanation as Amalric felt. “How fareth thy head, lass?” “A bit of a headache, but not bad.” She frowned. “You didn’t hurt sárkány, did you?” “Nay, we didst not attack the beast.” “Good, because I would’ve had to kick your asses...for...that.” She lifted her shaking hands to her face. “No, not again.” Amalric put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. Her body trembled against his. “Thou art unwell?” “Nothing an orgasm or two won’t fix.” She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his for a long moment. Then she kissed him.

 

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Chapter 8 An overwhelming need to get naked with Amalric and Ranulf again washed over Lu’s entire being, and she had no willpower to fight it. Sticking her tongue in Amalric’s mouth did nothing to appease her body’s demands. She wanted all of them. Everywhere. Every way. Now. Dragging her lips from Amalric, she struggled to breathe. “Clothes. Off. Both of you. Hurry.” After a brief hesitation, they complied, shedding their boots, shirts, and pants as she yanked off the layers of her own clothing. Ranulf spread his cloak over the damp ground at her feet, grasping her hand to pull her down with him. His kiss came deep and hard, invading her mouth, warring with her tongue. Hands stroked her bare breasts, her legs, her ass. Warm skin brushed against her from back and front. A rigid cock nestled in the crease of her bottom. Another pushed into her thigh. Lips pressed to the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine to her clit. She broke away from Ranulf’s mouth, her lungs burning from lack of oxygen. Her body was about to die from the intense need to connect with these two men. Rolling over, she shoved Amalric onto his back and straddled his hips. She gave his balls a gentle squeeze. “Ranulf, behind me. Now!” He shifted to his knees and settled at her back. “What dost thou need, my sweet Lu?” She guided him into her pussy, arching to take him deeper. Moisture flooded her cunt. She rubbed her clit on Amalric’s erection, unable to get enough of her lovers. Fucking and sucking had given her

 

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some relief that afternoon, but she wanted more, needed more. How? A spasm rocked her muscles, and Ranulf slipped free, gliding over her anus. “There! So I can have both of you inside me.” “I hath no wish to hurt you. Art thou certain, sweeting?” He continued sliding his wet penis over her tight hole, sending delightful shudders to her womb. She led his fingers to the juices dripping from her pussy then slid them up to the taut rosette. “Use your fingers to get me ready.” He eased one finger past the ring of muscle at the entrance, to the first knuckle, then the second, until his hand rested on her ass. Her rigid muscles relaxed, easing the slight sting and allowing her to enjoy this new experience. “Yes. That feels so good. More, please more.” A slow retreat, followed by a second finger joining the invasion made her womb contract. He withdrew his fingers and pushed his cock into her pussy. Pulling out, he pressed the tip to her anus and reached around to cup her breasts. “Thou art ready, sweetheart?” With a quick backward thrust, she impaled herself on his stiff shaft and gasped. “Now, Amalric! I need you inside me!” He cupped her jaw between his palms, easing her forward to meet his mouth. The head of his dick teased her cunt, and then he pushed into her body as his tongue pushed past her lips. His groan echoed in her head. Full. Filled. Fulfilled. Her heart, mind, and body sang, reveling in the amazing feeling of completion. They moved in a subtle rhythm, their masculine moans blending with her cries of relief. The slide of tongues and cocks carried her higher, the friction sending tingles through her veins. A wave of sensation threatened to drown her as an orgasm rushed over her. Amalric and Ranulf roared together, stiffening and shooting heat deep within her, triggering another surge of contractions and spasms. Her body pulsed and shook with dozens of tremors and aftershocks. Locked in the double embrace of her lovers, she

 

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surrendered to blissful exhaustion, resting her cheek on Amalric’s chest. “Thou art most perfect, love.” His warm panting breath caressed her forehead. “Sleep now, my heart.” Ranulf started to ease away, and panic replaced the serenity in her mind. “Don’t go! Not yet!” A hand smoothed over her shoulder and down her arm. “As thou wishes, sweet Lu. Stay, wilt I for you.” “Thank you.” She linked her fingers with his and closed her eyes. “Stay with me a little longer.” Tears stung, but she refused to cry. She couldn’t expect a pair of fourteenth-century knights to give her any more than what they already had. By morning, she’d be gone anyway. **** Ranulf waited for Lu’s slow, even breaths before he withdrew from her and helped Amalric settle her on the cloak beside his friend. “I hath not e’er lain with a lass in that way. ’Twas most pleasurable.” After a nod, Amalric furrowed his brow. “We cannot wed her in this land. Bigamy is unlawful. Dost thou thinketh we might both wed her in Oh-i-o?” “I knowest not. Wouldst thou ask the leave of our lord to journey with our lass to her home? I hath no family but distant cousins here. Wilt thou say farewell to thy sister?” Ranulf stirred the fire then laid a log in the flames. “The acts we hath done with Lu be most unlawful according to church law. ’Tis sodomy.” “The time hath cometh to put aside our armor and take a wife. Lisbet be under the care of William. A right good man be he.” Rising on his elbow, Amalric folded the cloak over Lu. “I hath much affection for our Lu. The way we swive be our affair.” “As doth I. Lying with her in that manner doth not seem wrongous to me.” Ranulf put his foot in the leg of his breeches. “She wilt

 

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attempt her task once more whilst we sleep. We must needs be ready to follow whence she thinketh to escape.” “Aye, ’tis the truth of it.” Sorting through the clothing, Amalric chose a shirt and breeches, and then began dressing. “I thinketh I wouldst not care to take a weak lass to the marriage bed.” With a laugh, Ranulf nodded. “Lu be not weak. A more strong woman I hath yet to meet. Strong willed, strong minded, and strong of body.” Lacing his boot, Amalric gave a sleepy growl. “And able to take the strength from me.” “Aye. The first watch be mine. Rest, friend.” Ranulf fastened his breeches before reaching for his shirt. “I wilt wake thee afore the sun sets.” **** Light shone through the leafless trees, illuminating the faces of Lujza’s companions. Her lovers. Not that they love me. She stared up at the bright crescent, two days past the full moon. Swallowing the self-pity that tried to suck her into the black hole she’d crawled out of seven years ago, she took one last minute to savor the pleasurable soreness between her thighs. Never again would she experience being held by these men. When she returned home tonight, she’d mourn their deaths six hundred years too late by burning two white candles scented with cloves—for eternal peace and courage. One day, she’d join them. Easing Amalric’s arm off her waist, she trailed his hand over her lips, pressing a kiss to his palm. She repeated the gesture with Ranulf, lifting his fingers from her cheek. He’d fallen asleep with her instead of taking the first watch as he had the previous night. Goodbye, brave knights. If you could’ve lived in my time, I would’ve loved you. She crawled out of the blanketing cloak and shivered as the night air chilled her skin. Between the low flames of the fire and the

 

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moonlight, she quickly found her clothes and dressed. Her sword sheathed on her back, she stepped out of the camp. In the darker area outside the clearing, her eyes shifted over her shoulder against her will. Looking back didn’t change a thing. She had to leave, and they had to stay. Once out of the hearing range of Ranulf and Amalric, she hurried through the forest, unconcerned with being quiet or stealthy. Her inborn sense of direction led to the edge of the woods and to the stone ledges beyond. She scanned the rock wall for the nearly invisible cavern. Golden eyes glowed in the blackness. “Sárkány, I’m coming. You’ll be back in your peaceful story again soon.” A puff of steam rose out of the hidden cave. The dragon’s head appeared, her red scales shimmering as they reflected the light of the moon. Lu jogged the last fifty feet to say another farewell, albeit a temporary one. She stroked the sárkány’s neck, wrapping her arms around it to hug her friend. “I’ll see you in my book.” Taking a step away, she let her fingers dance along the smooth surface. “Are you ready to go home?” Scales glittered as the dragon nodded. “Draconis, remittis domi ad tuae in liber.” Lu focused all her power into the spell, repeating it once, twice. Sparks of light fluttered in the air surrounding her friend, and a faint smile curved the dragon’s mouth. Red mist rose into the sky, coloring the moon red-orange. “It is done, with harm to none.” One task done, one to go. Shuffling her feet along the uneven floor of the cavern, she worked her way to the farthest depths, blind in the total blackness. Her boot bumped something, causing the object to slide with the kick in her step. She knelt to trace the outline with her fingertips. The spellbook? “Ancient tome, I search for you. Answer me as the catbirds do.” Her whisper was answered with a squeaky mewling at her hands.

 

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Thank the Goddess! Counting on her usually excellent instincts, she moved toward what she hoped was the entrance. After a dozen careful steps, the moon showed the outline of the entrance to the cave. Her pace accelerated until she reached the opening. A quick glance at the item in her hands confirmed that she held the missing book. She debated retrieving her sack of food. No time. If she didn’t cast herself home now, she might not have the strength to leave. Amalric and Ranulf couldn’t come with her, and she couldn’t stay. The tapestry containing their images wouldn’t exist as a reminder when she arrived home. Blinking back tears and swallowing past the lump in her throat, she cradled the spellbook in her arms and began the incantation. “I’ve put to right mistakes unplanned, Amendments to the past shall stand. Return us to our rightful place, And let us all the truth to face. Do what you will and blessed be. With harm to none, so mote it be.” She echoed the words and began the second repetition to activate the charm. In the mix of swirling colors, two figures ran toward her. Her heart jumped in her chest. Go back! Go back! Fingers clutched at her arms, the faces of Ranulf and Amalric distorting in the vortex surrounding her. The world went black for several seconds then came into focus in a dimly lit room. Her head spun, making her stomach queasy as her equilibrium slowly returned. The study. She was home. A pair of wide-eyed knights sat next to her on the polished oak floor.

 

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Chapter 9 Walls the color of ripened wheat bordered in dark green. Chairs and benches with cushioned seats and backs covered in rich fabric. Odd-looking oil lamps on the tables, a pair with low flames. A small chimney of stone with glowing embers, not near large enough to warm the room during the cold months of winter. Yet Ranulf was warmer than he’d been since early in September. Is this Oh-i-o? If this be Lu’s home, her family had more wealth than many of the lords under King Richard. The castle of his own lord had stone walls and floors, dampness and chill seeping in from outdoors, even with tapestries lining the walls and rushes upon the floors. Fires burned in openings as high as a tall man to heat the halls where the knights and soldiers took their meals and met to celebrate victory in battles. Beside him, Amalric seemed to study his strange surroundings as well. Both of his hands lay flat upon the wooden flooring as if to keep him balanced. His eyes leaped from right to left, down to up. Was he as perplexed and confounded as Ranulf? “You shouldn’t have done that.” A whisper drew Ranulf’s gaze to Lu. “Great Grandmother’s going to banish me from the family for screwing with history.” She lowered her face to her palms, shaking her head back and forth. A leather-bound tome lay across her legs, but it didn’t look like the same one she’d held in the den of the red beast as they raced to reach her in time. Had she carried out her task? Did the book belong to her family? Was the sharkan now in this place? Her chant to the creature spoke of home and a book.

 

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“Whereto hath thou brought us, Lu?” Amalric’s voice held none of his usual confidence, only concern. She looked up with an angry frown. “I didn’t bring you anywhere! You hitched a ride by your own damn choice! You weren’t supposed to come with me!” Gently setting the book on the nearest table, she stood and walked to the chimney. “I said my good-byes to you before I left the woods. I won’t say it again when you’re sent back.” Her words held warning, but Ranulf detected more than anger. Perchance, she had misliked leaving Amalric and him. Was sadness making her voice tremble? “Lujza?” Hurried footfalls sounded from outside the room, and a woman in long robes rushed through the doorway. Her face resembled Lu’s, but dark hair hung to her waist instead of being cut shorter than most men’s. She smiled when she saw Lu. “You’re home! And safe! I was so worried about you, sister. Natalia has been asking for you every five minutes since you left.” She gathered Lu in her arms like a child, though the top of her head only reached Lu’s chin. After several long moments, she seemed to notice his and Amalric’s presence. “Lujza, who are those men?” Lu’s sister studied them for several moments before her eyes widened, and she released Lu. She turned toward the far end of the room. “They’re the knights from the tapestry, aren’t they?” Ranulf looked at the woven wall hanging, focusing on the armorclad men in the work. Both wore beards on the faces, one dark-haired and the other lighter. The stag and laurel tree coat of arms adorned their tunics, and each bore a scar upon his cheek. Of all his lordship’s men, these knights could be only two soldiers. His throat went dry. “’Tis I.” “And I.” The wonder in Amalric’s whisper made Ranulf realize one important fact. A tapestry of this detail and skill would have taken years to make—from verifying the great deed required to receive the honor and the order from his lordship to the drawing of the design and

 

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the weaving of the great wall hanging. “From whither did this come?” Ranulf forced logic to be his guide. The tapestry looked aged. Warriors who died in battle were honored with such, but the heaven of Christ this was not. “Hath we entered the place called Valhalla?” The sister groaned. “What happened, Lu?” Ranulf couldn’t look away from the scene on the wall, even as Lu spoke. “Damn it, Rebeka, this is their fault! I found the book and started the incantation to return home, and they grabbed hold of me! I snuck away. They shouldn’t have been able to follow me!” Disappointment surged through Ranulf’s heart, and he turned to glare at her. “Thou meant to leave us? Thou wouldst go from our bed without a word of farewell?” Rebeka placed a hand on Lu’s shoulder. “You slept with him?” Amalric strode across the room to stop in front of the women. “And I.” Lu whirled around to face them, her eyes wet with tears. “Shut up, both of you! The stupid moon cycle! Why didn’t Kata check?” “Mommy, I can’t sleep.” A young lass appeared in the doorway, her dark hair plaited. She gasped. “Aunt Lu! You’re home.” She ran to Lu and Rebeka, hugging Lu around the waist. “I was so worried!” Then just as quickly, she pulled back and looked up. “Aunt Lu? You’re going to have a daughter. Two babies, like cousin Kata.” She be with child? No, children. But had he or Amalric fathered them? Amalric pressed his hand to Lu’s belly, igniting a spark of jealousy in Ranulf’s heart. “Babes?” She slapped at it and stepped out of his reach. Her face paled. “Oh, dear Goddess. What have I done?” “You’ve put things to right, daughter.” Another female entered the room, this one with a strength that hovered about her like an aura. She stood straight as an arrow, and her long white hair was gathered in a tie at her neck. Her all-seeing eyes moved from Amalric to Ranulf,

 

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sending a shiver of deep respect down his backbone. “Welcome to your destiny, brave knights.” **** Standing with her face in the steaming spray of her shower, Lu replayed Natalia’s proclamation over and over in her head. Two babies. Like Kata. How many times in the last six months had the scene from her cousin’s bedroom popped into her dreams? Aaron and Adam, naked on either side of Kata. They’d obviously just finished having sex, and Kata had told them she was a witch. They’d accepted her for who and what she was. No questions, doubts, or hesitations. For weeks after walking in on the trio in bed, Lu had been plagued by erotic images of two men worshipping her body, touching her everywhere. That afternoon with Ranulf and Amalric, she’d finally experienced the incredible joy of being connected with a pair of lovers. Even without her niece’s newfound ability, Lu knew that she carried a child fathered by each man. She’d already told them she was a witch. They were aware of her physical state of pregnancy. Telling them that they had to choose between a lifelong commitment to her and their children or having all memories of Lu, the babies, and the Macska family erased from their minds made her ill. Given the honor they both possessed, they’d feel obligated to take responsibility. Mates or not, her brain warned her not to put too much faith into the promises of a male—even ones willing to risk their lives for her. She learned too well from her past experience. Shutting off the water, she blindly grabbed for a towel. As she dried, she tried to shake the distress that came from neither of the knights following her when she ran from the study. No one had followed. Her sister and great grandmother had left her alone, too. She hung the damp towel over the shower rod, donning a tank top and shorts, her usual sleeping attire. For about three seconds, she

 

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considered ignoring her growling stomach in favor of going to bed, but she now had to take care of more than just herself. Babies. Becoming a mother didn’t frighten her. With an entire family of Macska women within yelling distance, she’d have all the help she’d ever need—with the pregnancy, with the birth, and with the raising of her children. But the possibility of another rejection, two of them at once, had her ready to deny Amalric and Ranulf before they could hurt her. Great Grandmother had enough power to send them back to their own time. They wouldn’t remember meeting the witch who fought like a man and made dragons disappear. Lu stared her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She couldn’t be in love. She’d spent weeks with Walker Price before she’d fallen for him. Less than two days had passed since she’d been captured and bound by fourteenth-century knights. A heart needed more time than that to recognize true love. What she felt was lust, pure and simple. Ready to take the back stairs to the kitchen for a snack, she opened the door to her bedroom. Rebeka sat in the armchair next to the fireplace, a sleeping Natalia on her lap. “Hi, Lu. I brought a sandwich and a bowl of soup for you. I thought you might want to talk.” Lu shook her head. “What’s to talk about?” Spotting the tray on her nightstand, she walked to her bed to sit down. “Thanks for the food. I’ve barely eaten anything since before I left.” “I can’t blame you for being afraid. Love makes you vulnerable.” Rebeka caressed her daughter’s hair. “I miss Daniel every day, but I have Natalia. I wouldn’t change anything if I could do it all over again.” Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Lu blinked away threatening tears. “He didn’t leave you, Rebeka. Dying isn’t the same as not choosing you. He loved you, and you had him for five years.” Her sister nodded. “I won’t ever love like that again, and I’m thankful for the time we had together. You have to give these men a

 

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chance. I know you might get hurt, but don’t let that keep you from finding happiness with the right man...um, men. You wouldn’t have gotten pregnant if they weren’t your mates.” Lu picked up the sandwich. “You don’t understand. They aren’t supposed to be here. History changed because they’re here. How can they do the deed earned them a tapestry if they’re almost seven hundred years in the future?” “You should’ve learned to read the old languages like you were supposed to. Do you know what’s written in the border?” Rebeka raised her eyebrows. “You don’t, do you? Your knights were honored because they vanquished a dragon and lost their lives doing it. You wouldn’t know anything about that dragon, would you?” Biting into the sandwich, Lu shifted her gaze to the flames in the fireplace. She had changed history. Twice. They should’ve died in battle, not fighting a dragon she’d sent back in time only twenty years ago. Her brain hurt trying to make sense of the complicated string of events she’d caused. Damn, I’m going to have to tell her. She finished chewing as she considered how to confess. “Do you remember the sárkány story from when I was little? You know, I said I lost the book? Well, I kind of accidentally spelled her into the tapestry. I didn’t realize it at the time, but when I went into the tapestry she was there. She was the dragon Amalric and Ranulf were trying to kill. I returned her to the story before I came home.” “Great Grandmother must’ve known.” A smile spread across Rebeka’s face. “You changed the how, but the outcome is the same. Your knights must have originally died defending their castle and then by destroying the sárkány after you sent her to the fourteenth century. Now, the dragon is gone, and the men disappeared. Everyone would assume they were killed in the line of duty. That’s why the tapestry still exists. If you send them back, then you really will change history. Still. Again.” Picturing the woven hanging on the wall of the study, Lu remembered her great grandmother’s words. Welcome to your destiny,

 

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brave knights. Everything that had happened—from an eight-year-old girl spelling a dragon from a book into the past, to Lu’s novice sending a spellbook there as well, and a pair of fourteenth-century knights hitching a ride to the future—had been part of some greater plan. Destiny wasn’t easily influenced. What if she was meant to bear Ranulf’s and Amalric’s children? Had she actually corrected a mistake from the past by bringing them with her? Setting down the sandwich, she lifted the bowl of soup from the tray. “Did you feed them? They’re probably starving.” “Spoken like a woman in love. Yes, they’re in the kitchen with Great Grandmother. They’re eating soup and sandwiches, even though they were more concerned about you than themselves. They wanted to come with me, but Romána insisted they eat first. I think she needed to have a private talk with them.” Rebeka levered up from the chair, shifting Natalia’s head to her shoulder. “Shall I show them to your rooms after I put my angel to bed?” Lu swallowed the bite of warm vegetable soup as she shook her head. Amalric and Ranulf were her responsibilities. Her lovers. The fathers of her babies. “No. I’ll bring them up after I take my tray down to the kitchen. Thanks, Rebeka.” “You’re welcome, sister. I hope you find happiness with your mates. They seem to care a lot for you.” A bubble of optimism lightened the weight of uncertainty. Rebeka had always been an excellent judge of character. “Trying to avoid being refused might hurt them. I can’t do that.” Rebeka smiled. “I hope they know how lucky they are to have you for a mate.” Seeing what looked like a flash of regret in her sister’s eyes, Lu stood to hug her. “Maybe someday you’ll—” “No, Lujza. Daniel was my mate. My heart has no room for someone else. Be happy.” Lu watched Rebeka carry Natalia out the bedroom door and waited for the click of the sitting room door. She ate several more

 

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bites of her meal before exhaustion won against hunger. Gathering the tray and her courage, she headed downstairs to the kitchen.

 

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Chapter 10 Sitting at the long, polished table, Amalric eyed the platter of roasted meat and cheese stacked between thick slices of bread. The aroma from a steaming pot of soup beside the platter made his mouth water. A bowl of apples sat on the other side. The feast reminded him that his last proper meal had been on the morn he left his lordship’s castle a fortnight past. “Help yourselves to the sandwiches, young men, while I ladle the soup.” The old woman set dishes in front of him and Ranulf—for a certain she was the one Lu had named the matriarch of her family. Power and wisdom shone in her shrewd eyes. “Sand-wich? What be sand-wich?” Ranulf sounded as anxious to begin eating as Amalric felt. “Ah, not yet a word in the time you come from, is it?” She pointed to the stacks on the serving tray. “Bread on top and bottom, with filling in the middle. Would you like mustard?” Amalric nodded. He looked for a clay bowl of brownish paste. Only an odd-shaped yellow bottle with a pointed lid stood near the platter. The old woman laughed. “You’ll have a bit of adjusting to do.” She moved one of the stacks of bread, meat, and cheese to his dish then removed the top slice of bread. With the upturned bottle in her hand, she drew circles of yellow on the pale cheese. She set the bread over it. “One turkey and Swiss with mustard on wheat bread. What is your name?” Straightening his spine, he met her gaze. “I be called Amalric. Thou art the matriarch Lu spoke of?”

 

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“So she told you about her family? Good. I am Romána.” She turned to Ranulf. “And what is your name?” “I be called Ranulf. Wouldst thou prepare another sand-wich as thou didst for Amalric?” He lifted the slice of bread from the top of the stack. “Lu’s sister hath brought such a feast to Lu?” Drawing yellow circles on his sandwich, she smiled. “Yes, Rebeka is a nurturer. She takes care of those she loves. Lujza’s welfare is important to you?” Amalric nodded. “She be of great import to us. Doth Oh-i-o permit bigamy? We wish to wed her.” “She hath both our hearts.” Ranulf put the bread back on his sandwich. “She be strong enough for two husbands.” “That she is, Ranulf.” The old woman picked up a bowl and began ladling soup into it. “Eat. You’ll need your own strength to talk her into taking you as her mates.” “Wherefore wouldst she not wish to become our wife?” Amalric grasped the sandwich in his hands, lifting it to his mouth and taking a bite. He chewed for several moments. “What fowl be this? ’Tis not chicken nor waterfowl.” “Because she is stubborn, like many of my daughters.” Romána set the bowl next to his dish. “Turkey, a large bird native to this land.” “’Tis most tasty.” Ranulf took another bite. “I’ll tell Rebeka you enjoyed her cooking.” Setting the second bowl near Ranulf, she sat across the table from them. “Has Lujza told you about her special skills?” “I hath seen her swordplay and brawling skills.” A snort came from Ranulf. “She hath the ability to disarm her foe and kick like a mule.” A look at the matriarch told Amalric she meant Lu’s other skills. “She be a witch. We didst watch her use words to make flames blaze and a sharkan vanish. She didst chant to bring her to this place.” “Ah, the sárkány. You believe she is a witch?” “Aye, a kind witch. Hurt be not her intent, only fear and righting

 

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an error.” “You want to become her mates still?” Dark eyes studied him until he nodded, then they looked toward Ranulf. His friend moved the bowl of soup onto his empty dish. “Aye. My heart doth belong to Lu.” She stood, seemingly satisfied with his and Ranulf’s answers to her questions. “Eat your fill. Lujza will come for you soon.” Amalric trusted her word. **** Leaning back in the chair, Ranulf scanned the empty platter, dishes, and bowls, then grinned at Amalric. “’Twas a feast. We must needs provide the meat for the morrow’s sup in thanks.” “Aye. I be filled to my gullet.” Amalric stretched his arms over head and gave a sleepy growl. Soft footsteps approached, sending Ranulf’s heart to pounding. “Lu? Hath thou come for us?” She entered the doorway at the opposite end of the kitchen he and Amalric had arrived through with the matriarch. They rose to greet her as she carried a tray to the sink, and her sparse clothing had Ranulf’s balls tightening. A chemise that clung to her curves. Breeches that covered only her arse and cunt, leaving her long legs bare. “Hi, guys.” Water poured from the spigot without a pump handle, and she put the rinsed dishes in a strange cabinet with sliding cages. Moving to the table, she gathered the remains of the soup, then put it in a cupboard that lit up from the inside whence she opened it. Their dishes joined hers in the cages. “Dost thou oftentimes wander the halls of thy castle in such a state of undress?” His voice sounded rough to his own ears. She shrugged. “The twenty-first century differs a bit from the fourteenth century. This type of sleepwear is common.” In an almost

 

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shy manner, she gestured for them to follow her. “Come on. My rooms are on the third floor. We’ll sleep there.” “Together?” Amalric asked what Ranulf was thinking. “’Tis permitted by thy family?” Leading them to stairway, she started up the steps. “You’re my mates. We’re expected to sleep in the same bed.” Perchance, they would adjust to Lu’s home without difficulty after all. Ranulf went up behind her, with Amalric at the rear. His palms itched to caress her bottom. “’Twill not be counted as a hardship, sweet.” “I kind of figured that.” Her laugh sent heat through his veins. “Good thing I have a huge bed. The aunts insisted I move into family accommodations a couple weeks before my birthday. New king bed, bigger bathroom, a nursery.” “What be a nurse-ry?” “A nurs-er-y. A room for babies.” Amalric slapped him on the back. “We wilt have need for a large nursery. I most enjoy making babes with our Lu.” She reached the top of one set of stairs and continued upward. “Macska women can have children only once every seven years. I won’t be able to conceive again until my thirty-fifth birthday.” “Dost thou know if Ranulf or I be the father of the babes you carry?” She hesitated for a moment before she led them into a wide dimly lit hallway. “Each of you is the father of one baby. The same thing happened to Kata. She took two mates and is pregnant by both men.” Relief washed through Ranulf. “Amalric and I shall raise each other’s children as our own. We hath both been blessed.” “As I have been blessed.” Stopping at set of wooden double doors, she opened the one on the right, reaching to make light inside as Romána had shown them. “Welcome to your new home.” She led them into a room with cushioned benches and chairs like the study. “This is our private sitting room. A place to sit and relax,

 

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read a book, have a visit, or talk with someone. Next is the bedroom.” They followed her through another door. Ranulf’s feet froze to the floor two strides into the bedchamber. A sleeping pallet stood against the far wall, larger than any he had seen before. A coverlet of blue and brown lay on top of the bed made for a king. A finer place for sleep and loving did not exist. “The bathroom is in there.” She pointed to a door to the right of a stone chimney. “I guess I should probably show you how everything works. Not like you had indoor plumbing way back when.” Amalric strode across the room to open the door. “Thy family be most noble to make rooms for bathing. E’en the lord of our castle bathed in his bedchamber.” “Uh, well, this is a little more complicated than pouring hot water into a tub.” Lu went into the room ahead of Amalric and Ranulf. “Just because I have to share a bathroom with you doesn’t mean you’re allowed to make a mess—unless, of course, you clean it up. See this? It’s called a toilet. Rule number one. You have to lift the lid and the seat for it to work right when you’re peeing. Rule number two. See this handle? Push down once after you’re finished. It’s called flushing the toilet. If you flush, I don’t have to yell at you for not flushing. Rule number three. In this house, we wash our hands after we use the toilet. One squirt of soap, rub, turn on the water, rinse. Count to at least thirty while you’re doing it.” Ranulf let out a relieved sigh. “We need not find our way outside to the privy?” She pressed her lips together, seeming to hold in a laugh. “No privy. Look under the sink. Those pipes carry hot and cold water throughout the house—but don’t touch them. Uncle Stan is a plumber. He’s the only one allowed to fix the pipes.” “Be there a window behind this drapery?” Amalric slid the curtain aside to reveal more pipe coming out of the wall. “This is the shower, or if you feel like soaking, a bathtub.” She reached into the shower and turned a handle. Water began spraying

 

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from the pipe. “Who wants to go first? You both need to wash before we go to bed.” Unlacing his boots, Ranulf pulled one off then the other, grinning at her. “As I wish to join thee first in bed, I wilt use the shower.” Amalric began unfastening his breeches as Ranulf removed his tunic. “I wish to try this flushing the toilet.” Covering her eyes and groaning, Lu backed out of the room. “I know I’m going to live to regret this.”

 

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Chapter 11 All thoughts of a disaster area in the bathroom fled from Lu’s head when her knights stepped into the bedroom. Both men were naked, clean, and almost ready for action, if their half-erect cocks were any indication. “Did you enjoy the comforts of indoor plumbing?” “Aye, love.” Amalric walked around the end of the bed to climb in beside her as Ranulf joined her on the near side. Ranulf tucked a hand behind her neck and leaned in to gently kiss her. “We art most pleased to lodge with thee. Wilt thou wed us on the morrow?” She smiled against his lips. “The mating ceremony is always on the evening of the third-quarter moon. The first-quarter moon rose seven nights ago. The full moon is tomorrow night, and the last quarter a week from that.” “’Twas the full moon two nights past. Five days remain until we wed.” Amalric brushed his soft beard against her shoulder. Turning to press her mouth to his, she sighed. “That was in the time you came from. We’re many years in the future. The last quarter moon will happen on a different day in this year.” “I cannot wait nigh on a sennight to become thy husband.” Ranulf’s look of horror made her laugh. “It’s only eight days. You won’t marry me if you have to wait that long?” He frowned. “I wish to wed thee sooner. If I be required to wait, I shall wait.” “And you, Amalric?” She glanced over her shoulder at him.

 

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“So long as we may share the marriage bed, I be willing to wait.” His hand skimmed along her hip to her bottom. “Sleeping clothes art most unnecessary, my heart.” “Then maybe you should take them off of me.” Ranulf wasted no time tugging her tank top upward to bare her breasts. His lips closed over her nipple while he worked the shirt past her head and arms. A flick across the hard tip sent a jolt to her pussy. Her shorts slid down her legs with the help of Amalric’s efficient hands. He kissed his way from the arches of her feet to her knees. “Thy bed be much better than the ground for lying with thee. I didst enjoy loving thee in the water though. The shower be big enough for three.” Lu groaned. Her knights wet and hard? Tomorrow morning. “Too bad it’s November. We could skinny-dip in the pool.” He trailed his tongue up her inner thigh, stopping just close enough to her waiting clit that his warm breath teased the sensitive nub. “Skin-dip be naked? We must needs swim together without clothing again. Thou art wet already this night.” He skirted her damp vagina, kissing a path over her hipbone. “Dost thy wish a taste our lover’s womanly juices, Ranulf? I hath not had the pleasure of touching her lovely tits.” “Aye. I wouldst much enjoy burying face in her pretty cunt.” Ranulf gave Lu a quick kiss before he crawled between her legs, anticipation making her wiggle. “I wilt give thee great pleasure with my tongue and lips, and then I wish to be inside thy body. Wouldst thou like to be loved in the arse by Amalric, sweet Lu? We wilt love thee together again.” A flood of desire swept through her veins. “Yes, I want both of you to fuck me again.” She nearly jumped out of her skin when his mouth closed over her pussy. His tongue lapped at her clit, sending shivers over her skin, and Amalric sucked and flicked her nipples with his lips and fingers. Sensation threatened to drown her, but she reveled in the incredible

 

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stimulation her men gave her. A lone lover could never bestow so much attention at once. They engaged her entire body. Grasping Amalric’s cock in her hand, she stroked his hard length, delighting in the silken skin stretched over steel. He groaned against her breast, the vibrations sending shivers to her womb. His hips rocked forward, encouraging her to continue the slow, even pace. She lost her focus when Ranulf impaled her with his tongue. A moment later, he sucked her clit into his mouth. Her muscles tightened as her orgasm raced closer, her hand losing its grip. The wave suddenly washed over her, a hoarse cry erupting from her throat. Spasms shattered her, one after another. On and on and on. Amalric moved from her breast to her mouth, his deep and passionate kiss triggering even more contractions. “Thou art pleased, love?” Ranulf nibbled on her ear as he lifted her knees and pressed his erection to her opening. “I wilt most gladly try again if thou art unsatisfied.” A hum escaped past Amalric’s lips, and she reached out to grab hold of Ranulf’s ass and pull him inside her. The invasion filled only half of her. Tearing her mouth away, she gasped. “In the drawer. Aloe gel. For lubrication. Hurry.” Amalric scooted toward the edge of the mattress toward the nightstand. Using every ounce of her strength, Lu flipped Ranulf to his back as she straddled him. The desire running rampant in her body had nothing to do with the cycle of the moon and everything to do with her mates. They loved her. She knew it in her heart. The babies they’d made together were proof. She watched Amalric coat his shaft with the gel. “I can’t believe I had to travel over six hundred years into the past to find you.” His slick fingers slipped down the crease of her bottom, circling her anus and teasing with a quick dip in, then out. “I need you, too, Amalric. Join with us.” Amalric fought the longing to drive himself balls-deep into Lu. He rested the tip of his member against her tight opening, easing in a bit

 

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at a time. Her body embraced him, the muscles milking him as he pushed deeper. She arched into him, taking his length fully inside her. “Wow, you feel so good. Move with me.” Her hips rocked forward on Ranulf, and Amalric moaned at the glide along his friend’s hard shaft. He placed his hands on her waist, guiding her back and forth as he moved with her. She trembled beneath his touch as if ready to let her pleasure take her. “So close.” She panted through roughly spoken words. “Oh, I’m going to come! Now! Yes, now!” Her back bowed, and she pulsed around him. Ranulf’s eyes widened, and he let out a yell, the sound blending with Lu’s cries. He stiffened against Amalric within her body, the combination of sensation and joyful noise triggering his own release. Hot seed shot into his woman. His betrothed. His mate. He leaned over her, kissing her shoulder and neck, unable to put his feelings into words. Lying with a wench had always eased the need to swive, but had never made him want to lay down his sword and share a home with her—and he did not begrudge Ranulf a part of Lu’s heart. She gave to them equally in their bed as they both joined with her. Now, he longed to hold her while they slept. “I’m so glad you’re my mates.” Lu lowered herself to Ranulf’s chest. “I can’t imagine letting you go back.” Amalric traced a line down her spine as he withdrew from inside her. “We hath no wish to return to our time if thee be here. Come rest beside us, love.” She kissed Ranulf then rolled off him, tilting her face up to Amalric. She gave him a sleepy smile. “Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up in the morning?” “’Twould take a score of men to make me leave thee.” Holding her face in his palms, he pressed his lips to her soft, warm mouth. “Sleep.” She settled against him, and Ranulf pulled the covers over them

 

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all as he lay down next to her other side. Her whispered sighs sent her breath feathering across Amalric’s chest. Fingers relaxed on his ribs as her breath slowed, and her thigh grew heavier on his. He closed his eyes, his needs slaked and his mind at peace. “She sleeps.” Ranulf’s quiet voice made Amalric jump. “Dost thou believe we each hath a babe growing in our Lu?” “She wouldst not tell us a lie about such.” “Thou art right. She be most honest. Dost thou hope for a son?” The question required no thought for Amalric. “I wouldst be happy with a daughter much like her mother. The matriarch doth wish for a female child to carry on the line of witches. Makes no matter to me, friend.” Ranulf’s laughed low. “A son much like Lu wouldst please any father. I care not one way or the other. That she bears our babes be reason enough for celebration.” “Aye. Our babes.” Amalric eyed the lamp that made light without oil or flame. Lu still lay upon his chest and leg, and he wouldn’t risk waking her by rising to flip-the-switch. “I doth prefer sleeping in the dark. Didst thou see the way to douse the light?” “The matriarch didst touch the small knob on the wall like this.” Climbing out of the bed, Ranulf walked to the door and pushed down on the tiny button next to it. The room darkened. Nearly silent footsteps crossed the room, and then the mattress dipped, and the covers shifted. “’Tis not as dark as the forest without a moon, but I shall sleep.” “As will I.” Breathing in the clean scent of his lover, Amalric grinned. He would wake beside her in the morn, ready to discover new ways to pleasure her.

 

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Chapter 12 “What do you suppose they’re talking about?” Lu checked the clock on the wall of her bedroom as she tugged on her leggings. One day at the mansion, and her men already had befriended her cousin’s mates, spending hours with them this morning. “You don’t think Ranulf and Amalric are comparing notes with Aaron and Adam, do you?” She snorted a laugh and glanced at her mom as she came out of the bathroom, but the midwife of the Macska family wasn’t laughing, or even smiling. In fact, her expression was serious. Too serious. Lu’s stomach flip-flopped. Something was wrong. “Let’s go in the sitting room, Lujza.” Her mother grasped her hand, leading Lu into the adjoining room, giving her more reason to worry. They sat on the couch. “I need to ask you a few questions.” “Okay.” Lu tucked her legs beneath her and leaned into the corner of the sofa. She forced her jaw to stiffen to keep from chewing on her lower lip. Her mom faced her, still solemn enough to put Lu on edge. “Have you had any bleeding?” “Bleeding? You mean like my period?” A nod was the answer. Lu’s heart dropped to her stomach. “No, I haven’t had my period since my birthday. What’s wrong?” With her clasped hands squeezed together in her lap, her mother ignored the question. “Any cramps or abdominal pain?” A lump formed in Lu’s throat. “No.” “You’re certain Natalia said you’re going to have twins?”

 

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Tears stung Lu’s eyes as she had no choice but to jump to the only possible conclusion. “I miscarried one of the babies? How will I tell Amalric and Ranulf?” A horrible thought raced to the forefront and she stood to pace to the hallway door and back. “One of them isn’t my mate? No, that’s impossible. I love them both, and I know they love me.” Her mom patted the cushion beside her. “Sit for a minute, Lujza.” She sat, dreading the words to come. One of her lovers would be returned to the past. But which one? It didn’t matter. Her heart would break if either was sent back. “My daughter, I don’t know how to tell you this.” Her mother wrapped her in a gentle hug, stroking her back. “You’re not pregnant. I don’t believe you ever were.” The whispered words might as well have been screamed at her. They cut deeper than any sword ever could. A wave of nausea swept over Lu, and she raised her hand to cover her mouth. She tried to swallow, but the muscles refused. Spots danced in front of her. They aren’t my mates. I’m going to lose them both. Life had played her for a fool again. Pushing to her feet, she stumbled into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She needed to be alone to nurse the incredible hurt coursing through her body. Scattered pieces of her broken heart sliced through her soul, and her mourning howls did nothing to ease the pain. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. “No!” She buried her face in the comforter and gave in to the overwhelming grief. How would she survive the rest of her life without Ranulf and Amalric? If they weren’t her mates, she didn’t have even one. Her days and nights would be empty. Devoid of happiness and hope. Lacking in all ways except sorrow. She’d been the victim of Natalia’s developing gift. With the new talent came the learning process. Her niece had been influenced by Kata’s experience and had misread her impressions of Lu’s situation. Natalia wasn’t to blame. She’d simply misinterpreted her aunt’s

 

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feelings for her men as meaning Amalric and Ranulf were mated to her. Didn’t I tell myself they couldn’t possibly be for me? I tried to leave them behind, knowing I couldn’t keep them. Lu shifted to her side, curling up as small as she could make herself. She’d allowed a single spark of hope to set her aflame, and she’d gotten burned. The need to destroy something started in her heart and spread to every part of her. She eyed the table lamp, her hands itching to heave it against the wall, to watch it shatter. The glass candlesticks on the mantle begged to be thrown to floor. Her gaze drifted to the door to the nursery. She wanted to smash the matching cradles to kindling and toss them into a roaring blaze in the fireplace. Instead, she tugged on a sweater as she strode to the sitting room. Her mother was gone, leaving her alone to get over the disappointment. Get over it? Not if I live to be a thousand years old. She braced herself for the rush of wintry air as she slipped out the balcony doors. Descending to the patio, she sprinted across the east lawn toward the barn, the icy-cold grass biting the bare soles of her feet. She didn’t slow until she reached the top of the ladder to the loft. A quick climb over the stacked bales had her digging in the loose floorboards for her foils. Removing the button tip from her spare, she tossed it at the scarecrow slumped in the corner. She was in the mood for a real fight—a fair one. Anger coursed through her veins. How dare life treat her like she had no feelings? Great Grandmother’s talk of destiny meant nothing. Amalric and Ranulf were destined to live and die in medieval days, and Lu was fated to become a bitter old hag. “With skill and knowledge come to fight, Man of straw, with power and might. Foil in hand and honor bound, Sparring ends when the heart is found.

 

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Employ thy skill upon thy foe; When thy head is gone, your life shall go.” Raising her sword, she inclined her head at her opponent in salute. The blade whistled as she whipped it downward. “En garde.” **** “Lu duz haf pretty legs.” Amalric forced the strange words out of his mouth, certain he’d never learn this mod-durn English. Adam nodded, his lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh. Aaron grinned. “Good. Or you could say ‘Lu has pretty legs.’” “Lu haz pretty legs.” Walking to the parlor window, Amalric glanced out at the gray sky. “The fore cast sayz snow to night.” Ranulf joined him. “I don’t need a man in a suit and noose to tell me snow is coming.” Adam snorted. “That noose is called a necktie.” “A noose by any name is still a noose. I will not wear a knotted strip of cloth around my neck.” “You will if Lu tells you to. Aren’t you worried she’ll turn you into a toad?” “Lu does not use her witch spells to hurt.” Closing the book in his hands, Aaron patted his brother’s shoulder. “She’s only ever threatened you, Adam. You provoke her on purpose.” Amalric looked outside again, not bothering to try to follow the conversation. Speaking the new language had been less of a problem to his friend than him. He preferred thought and action to words. A darkly clad figure ran from behind the line of shrubs at the corner of the mansion toward the stable. Womanly shape. Cropped hair. Long legs. Lu. Why would she go out on this cold afternoon...without boots upon her feet? She slid the barn door open just far enough to enter, disappearing from his view. The door closed.

 

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His instincts warned him something was not right, but he knew not what could be wrong. “I must talk with Lu’s mates.” Amalric turned toward the parlor entryway, surprised to see the matriarch. Other than at the morning and noon meals, she seemed to always be meeting with one of the elder Macska women through this day. “Yes, ma’am.” Aaron grasped Adam by the sleeve, pulling him toward the exit. “See you later, guys.” As soon as the brothers left the room, Romána closed the doors. “Sit, knights. We must speak on a most important matter.” Walking with Ranulf to the couch, Amalric sat across from the place she stood. The only matter that came to mind was whether they stayed in this time or returned to the past. “I hath no wish to leave. I will stay with Lu.” “And I.” Ranulf sat down beside him. “She is our mate.” The matriarch studied them until discomfort set in. “You are certain of it?” “Yes.” Ranulf’s answer echoed his own. “Lujza told you that she cannot bear the child of a man who isn’t her mate?” Her piercing eyes continued to watch them. Amalric straightened his spine. “Lu carries our babes. Natalia hath the gift to know this and hath said it be so.” “She is but a child just learning her gift. Perhaps she misunderstood the signs.” A knot formed in his stomach. Romána couldn’t mean that Lu was not going to birth their children, could she? With a low growl, Ranulf pushed to feet, pacing to the window and back. “Babes or no, Lu is our mate. We hath given her our hearts as she hath given hers to us.” The odd mix of language assured Amalric that his friend’s anger was high. “We care not if she is barren.” “Lujza isn’t barren, brave knight, but she also isn’t with children.

 

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Her mother examined her and found no evidence that she has ever been.” Clenching his fists in his lap, Amalric forced down his disappointment. “We will stay. If we must needs return to the past, Lu will be at our side.” She nodded. “You are steadfast in your choice. Now, go to Lujza and tell her.” Ranulf strode toward the exit. “She will be in distress about the babes. We must hie to our rooms, Amalric, to comfort her.” “She hath gone to the barn. I didst see her run across the lea.” Amalric rose, hurrying after Ranulf. “Until we sup, Matriarch.” A sense of urgency had him rushing out the patio doors, leaving Ranulf to close the doors and run to keep up with him. The closer they moved to the stable, the stronger the need to reach her urged him on. His friend’s ragged breath made puffs of white near Amalric’s ear as he stopped to slide open the entrance. “Something be wrong. I can feel it in my bones.” Amalric didn’t answer, instead focusing on the sounds and smells in the building. A faint grunt had him trotting along the main aisle between the stalls. The sound came again from above, with no doubt in his mind of the source. Lu. “The loft.” Metal clinked against metal as he climbed the rungs on the wall to the upper part of the barn. Another grunt, followed by a muffled growl. At the top of the ladder, he scanned the stacks of fragrant hay. Where art thou, Lu? The floor creaked on the other side of the piles. He stepped on the bales, climbing them like stairs. The sight below froze his feet in place. Lu held a thin sword, the blade flashing as she parried one attack after another from a man of straw, slowing with each defensive move. At the next advance, the tip sliced across her upper arm. She cried out, and a line of blood appeared at the cut to match two red streaks on her other arm. Ranulf stopped beside him. “God’s teeth! She be wounded!” Descending the stacks, Ranulf raced toward the straw man as Lu’s

 

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blade sliced through the neck of the straw man. Another quick blow to the wrist sent the blade skittering over the floor. With a forward stab, the point pierced the chest where a heart would lie in a living man, and her opponent dropped into a loose pile of burlap and straw. Amalric finally made his feet move, nearly tumbling down the bales as he ran for his mate. Though the wounds looked slight, his throat tightened at the sight of Lu bleeding. He lifted her off her feet, settling her on the floor and kneeling beside her. “Thou art hurt, love.” Ranulf kicked apart the remains of the beheaded enchantment. “’Tis the last time this creature shalt wield a weapon against thee.” Lu pushed away Amalric’s hand when he touched her arm. “Let me up. I’m fine.” Ripping a strip of cloth from his shirt, Ranulf frowned. “We must needs stop the flow of blood.” Amalric took the binding from his friend, gently wrapping it around the cut. “We will care for thee.” She tried to wiggle free from his grasp but failed. “I can take care of myself.”

 

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Chapter 13 Pacing the hall outside their rooms, Ranulf struggled to understand the reason Lu insisted she could take care of herself. He and Amalric had never given her cause to doubt their feelings for her, and though they longed to have children with her, they wouldn’t leave her for lack of them. She held more importance than any babe she bore. Did she think the requirements for a mate in her family’s tradition outweighed their devotion to her? The sitting room door opened, revealing one of the many cousins in the household with a sack in her hand. “Nothing too serious. I stitched the worst cut and bandaged the other two. I also gave her some herbs for the pain, so she’ll probably sleep for a few hours. I’ll ask Rebeka to bring up a tray at suppertime.” Relief eased some of the tension in his shoulders. “We may sit with her?” Amalric edged past her without waiting for the answer, his gruff voice daring her to disagree. “I will lie with her.” She smiled and nodded. “I’ll stop in to check on her this evening.” “Many thanks.” As she stepped away from the doorway, Ranulf strode inside. He needed to see for himself that she would heal soon. Entering their bedchamber, he had to stop for a moment for his stomach to settle. Amalric had lowered the covers, exposing Lu’s naked sleeping form. Scraps of white fabric covered the pair of cuts on her right arm, and another larger one hid the deeper gash on the right. His hand dropping from the buttons of his shirt, Amalric stepped back from the bed. “I wish to hold her, but fear I will cause her pain. I

 

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hath no understanding of her actions.” “Nor I. Doth any man truly understand his woman?” Ranulf finally forced himself closer, replacing the covers Amalric had lowered. A sudden snap in the fireplace startled him. “Let us sit by the fire while she sleeps.” Moving to one of the chairs, Amalric sank onto the seat and cradled his head in his hands. “Wouldst she choose solitude over a life with us, for no other reason than the Macska meaning of mate?” Ranulf settled in the chair opposite his friend. “I know not. If our presence causes her to despair, then we must needs go. I only seek to bring her joy.” “Aye.” Amalric nodded. “What say we wait ’til morn? I wouldst love her this night once more, most gentle and true.” “One after another, so as not to hurt her. Perchance, she will ask us to stay.” In his heart, Ranulf hoped, but his mind told him she would not. Respecting her wishes seemed the only choice. **** The clink of metal against glass brought Lu out of her restless slumber. Terrible dreams had plagued her sleep—dreams of Amalric and Ranulf vanishing into the tapestry to be burned alive by dragon fire, to be attacked and killed by thieves, to drown in the lake at the ire of a water monster. The moment they returned to their own time, they would die. Maybe not in their world, but in hers, without a doubt. Which was worse? Condemning them to death in the tapestry or sentencing them to a life in a world they knew nothing about? Her family would never bless a union between a Macska woman and a pair of men who weren’t her mates. The unwritten laws had been passed from generation to generation for over two hundred years. They wouldn’t make an exception for Lu. She forced her heavy eyelids open, blinking to see in the dim light. Rebeka stood at the end table near the fireplace, handing a bowl

 

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to Ranulf. Amalric sat in the chair across from his, already holding a dish. Rebeka’s gaze lifted to the bed, and Lu was tempted to close her eyes and feign sleep. By now, all the women in the house were well aware of the situation with the knights. Since she didn’t want anyone’s pity, she’d probably have to spend at least the next week in hiding. Her sister gave a slight nod, but didn’t acknowledge Lu any further. Did Rebeka understand the horrible ache in Lu’s soul? Having lost her husband, she had to sympathize with Lu’s plight. Rebeka was right. With the man she’d loved gone, the very idea of finding someone to take his place had to be absurd. Ludicrous. Insane. No one could ever fill the empty places in Lu when Ranulf and Amalric were sent away. She recognized them as her mates, even if her family didn’t. Leaving her family to go with them was an impossibility. Raised as she’d been in the commune-like culture of Macska tradition, she wouldn’t have the first clue about how to find a job, locate a place to live, manage her money. Her helplessness matched her lovers’ in the modern world. Fitting in with women of the fourteenth century wouldn’t be any easier, especially since she was a witch. They’d probably burn her at the stake. Rebeka skirted the grouping of chairs, walking toward the bed. She leaned in as if to kiss Lu’s forehead, but whispered words brushed her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Lujza.” With a nod, Lu blinked back tears and grasped her sister’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze. They would spend the next fifty years commiserating in their losses. Hopefully, their younger sister wouldn’t suffer such heartbreak when she went in search of her mate. “Are you hungry?” Rebeka brushed her palm over Lu’s hair. “She hath awakened? How fares our Lu?” Anxious male voices came from behind Rebeka, followed by the clinking of dishes and hurried footsteps. “Sit and eat, gentlemen. She’ll need a few moments to fully

 

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wake.” Rebeka waved them away as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you hungry, sister?” Though food was far from her thoughts, Lu’s stomach rumbled. “I’ll try a few bites.” A sting of pain zinged through her arm when she shifted, levering herself up against her pillow to sit. She bit her lip to keep from gasping as the spark turned into a steady throb. “Let me help.” Rebeka tucked another pillow behind Lu, easing some of the discomfort. “Would you like a nightgown?” Lu shook her head. Just thinking about lifting her arm made her wince. Stitches hurt worse than getting thrown from a horse. “I’m fine.” Her sister reached toward the nightstand, and turned back with a bowl in her hands. “I’ll feed you so you don’t have to move. I made gulyás for supper.” She scooped a spoonful of steaming vegetables and broth. “Open.” Resisting the urge to roll her eyes and complain, Lu obeyed Rebeka’s gentle command. I should be thankful for her mothering. She’s the only one who could possibly understand, other than Great Aunt Magdolna. She took several bites, her stomach glad for the nourishment. Drinking a long sip of the tea her sister offered, she shook her head when Rebeka spooned another bite of soup. She couldn’t put off the conversation she needed to have with her lovers any longer. “No more. Would you mind leaving us alone?” Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she met her sister’s gaze. “It’s time.” Rebeka nodded, her expression grim as she returned the dishes to the tray. “Let me know if you need anything.” “Thank you.” Chewing on her lower lip, Lu waited until the outer door clicked closed before she turned her attention to the men seated by the fireplace. They’d watched her from their chairs while they ate, but now they seemed poised to pounce. “Will you come sit with me on the bed?”

 

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Both men immediately rose, striding across the room without hesitation. One settled on each side of the mattress, facing her, close but not touching her. They seemed almost...afraid of her, like she might break. Only my heart. She breathed in a slow, even breath, forcing her muscles to relax and her courage to muster. “By now, you’ve probably been told I’m not pregnant. In my family, a mate is recognized by his ability to accept his Macska woman as a witch and by making a child with her. Only a true mate can produce a child in the union and be welcomed into the household by the family. All others must be...cast out.” Her voice broke on the last words, and she struggled to continue. “With...without a baby...the connection is not...recognized.” Glancing from Amalric to Ranulf to the blankets covering her breasts, her lungs refused to work as she waited for some response. They were silent. Didn’t they understand? Dragging in another agonizing breath, she tried again. “You can’t stay. You have to go back.” Lu’s words cut through Amalric’s heart. He and Ranulf had talked about abiding by her wishes, but he hadn’t expected her to send them away. Romána hadn’t mentioned returning them to their own time. Her questions had led him to believe they had a choice, and he’d never imagined Lu giving in to her family’s demands without a fight. Arguing their case would be fruitless. Lu’s lips were pressed tightly together, signaling her resolve. She was nothing if not loyal to her family. He could find no fault in that. Holding in a heavy sigh, he asked for the one concession he and Ranulf had discussed. “Let us spend this last night with thee afore we leave. I wouldst love thee once more and hold thee in my arms ’til morn.” He cupped her cheek, leaning in to brush a kiss to her lips. “Allow us this favor, love, to ease the pain of parting.” “Yes.” Her whisper tickled his chin. Her mouth connected with his, her tongue slipping past his lips to push inside. He cradled her face in his palms as he caressed the

 

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smooth surfaces of her delicious mouth. A feminine moan vibrated through his jaw, making his balls tighten and his cock stiffen. His groan echoed hers. Kissing a path along her neck to her ear, he worked to unbutton his shirt. She arched against him, a soft sigh warming his cheek. A glance downward confirmed his suspicion. Ranulf, already naked, had taken on the pleasurable task of licking and sucking her rosy nipples into hard pebbles. Amalric shed the shirt and began loosening his denim breeches. “In our hearts, thou wilt always be ours, beautiful Lu.” He stood long enough to remove the rest of his clothing before lowering the covers to the foot of the bed. Climbing between her thighs, he dipped into her moist folds. “Yes, touch me.” Her husky voice urged him to explore her sweet cunt, to sweep though the wetness to find her sensitive jewel. She bucked against his hand. “There. That feels so good.” Focusing on the swelling nub, he rubbed back and forth, more than ready to surge into her as soon as her body found its pleasure. Watching her eyes, he continued his assault with Ranulf, waiting for them to widen as bliss overtook her. Even in the dim light of the fire, he saw the moment his and Ranulf’s touches sparked the flame. She bowed off the pillows, her ragged breathing giving way to a hoarse cry. Tremors rippled under his fingertips as Amalric smoothed his free hand up her thigh. Hooking her legs over his forearms, he moved closer, his cock pressing to her entrance. With a single thrust, he sank deep inside her wet heat. Her inner walls contracted around him as he began a tortuous rhythm of slow out and in, out and in. Ranulf kissed a trail from her puckered nipples to her neck and up to her lips. Lu groaned past his mouth, as she seemed to become the attacker in their battle of tongues. Amalric increased his speed, but still held back from pounding into her. This loving would be one of her last memories of him, and

 

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he wanted her to remember him for his affection more than his swiving. Lust came second to the feelings in his heart. His even strokes brought a gasp from her. She arched into him, her cunt milking him until he growled his pleasure and spent his seed inside her. Breaking away from Lu’s kiss, Ranulf moved to take Amalric’s place as his friend gathered her in his arms and collapsed against the pillows. While Amalric cradled her from behind, Ranulf eased forward to slide into her slick opening. Her body trembled as he pushed balls-deep into her. He tried to set a moderate pace, but joining with her stole his self-control. After helping guide her to satisfaction twice with Amalric, his own would be quick in coming. First, he would bring her that joy again. Wrapping her legs around his hips, he strove for a better angle and drove into her. A throaty groan assured him he’d found the spot he sought. Leaning forward to suck one of her ripe berries between his lips, he surrendered to the need to bury himself in her quivering tunnel. Her rising gasps changed to a long cry as he plunged in and out, pouring himself into her depths in a hot stream. His yell echoed in his ears—a yell of completion, frustration, and heartbreak. Thou art our mate, sweet Lu. Of that, I hath no doubt. Saying the words would make no difference to her family. Traditions not honored were not traditions. He admired her loyalty and respected her choice. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he slipped free of her body and crawled up to settle next to her. He kissed her forehead. “Sleep, my heart.” “Rest, love.” Amalric pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’ll never forget you.” Lu closed her eyes and exhaled. Within minutes, her breathing was slow and steady. Unwilling to waste any of the time he had left with her, Ranulf lay awake, watching her until the night sky began to lighten. “We must

 

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go afore she awakes, Amalric.” His friend nodded. “Aye. We will honor our promise.” Neither spoke as they eased from the bed and dressed in the clothing they’d been wearing when they arrived in O-hi-o. No trace of them remained when they exited the apartment. Ranulf placed his palm flat on the closed outer door. “Our hearts belong to thee forever.”

 

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Chapter 14 Blinking against the brightness seeping through the blinds, Lu forced her eyes toward the bedroom ceiling. Silence surrounded her. No sleepy sighs. No low yawns. No suggestive growls. Nothing. Her lovers were gone. She knew it without glancing to her left or right. Emptiness permeated the suite. Amalric and Ranulf had asked to stay with her until morning, and they’d left when the sun had risen. Today was the beginning of the rest of her solitary life. Had Great Grandmother returned them to the fourteenth century already? No, I don’t want to know. She closed her stinging eyes and rolled to her side. Saying goodbye, not saying good-bye. It felt the same. Her stomach was tied in knots. The tears still fell. Her heart was broken. If the pair of knights weren’t her true mates, she didn’t have one. What reason did she have to remain in this world? Her family didn’t need her—other than for the occasional instant diagnosis of a pregnancy. That special skill was a curse. She had no wish to tell her sisters or cousins of a coming child when she wouldn’t bear any sons or daughters with the men she loved. Her relatives could take a damned store-bought pee stick test like normal people. Rolling out of bed, she trudged to the bathroom to hide. Rebeka would be bringing tea and breakfast soon, and Lu didn’t want or need her sympathy. She preferred to mourn in private—for the rest of her life. A few splashes of cold water on her face didn’t help heal the hole in her soul. Neither did a quick shower. Maybe a long ride through the estate would bring her some peace. Not likely, but it beat trying to

 

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avoid her sister. She grabbed a pair of leggings and a sweater from the dresser on her way to the closet. As much as she disliked shoes, the weather was a bit cold to spend hours on horseback without them. Giving a tug on the laces, she pulled one boot free of the jumbled pile of footwear. A shoebox came with it, tumbling off the stack. The lid popped open to reveal several fossil-imbedded rocks, a crow feather, and a sealed package of red sequins. The day she’d discovered the bag of shiny embellishments was etched in one of her oldest memories. She’d gone into town with her mom to buy buttons at the fabric store. One look at the sequins and she’d sworn they were scales from the dragon in her favorite storybook. Lu had promised to work extra chores in the barn to pay for them. She lifted the package from the box, watching the light reflect off the smooth surfaces. The corner of the dragon book peeked out from under the crow feather. Setting aside the sequins, she removed the worn storybook. The picture on the cover was faded, making Sarkány’s hide look more hot pink than red. She’s back where she belongs. But where do I belong? Lu wouldn’t fit in during the time of knights any more than high heels and fancy dresses suited her. She sat on the floor of the closet and flipped the pages. Too bad the land of dragons didn’t actually exist. She’d be happier there than anywhere else right now. Why can’t I go there? That world might be make-believe, but it lived within the covers of the book and in her memories. The perfect escape from real life. Hurrying into her clothes, she focused on formulating an incantation to send her into the story. A candle. She’d also need an earthly element, an herb, and a stone to ensure the spell didn’t go awry. Within minutes, she had everything she required on the coffee table in her sitting room.

 

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After a slow inhale and exhale, she began the simple ritual with a whispered recitation of her charm. “Send me from this world of pain, Where teardrops fall like pouring rain. In Sarkány’s book I wish to stand— In the pages of her Dragon land. No harm to her. No harm to me. Please make it so, so mote it be.” Lu lit the blue candle, sprinkling rosemary into the water-filled bowl around it. She repeated the words of the spell and placed the oval of polished hematite into the seam of the open storybook. With the second repetition, she closed her eyes and waited for the warmth of the sun on her skin, the drumming of giant wings, and the spicy scent of dragon breath. Tugged off-balance by the power of the incantation, she opened her eyes to keep from falling. The air shimmered red and gold. An invisible force pushed and pulled at her. The distorted shape of Rebeka reached toward her from beyond the swirling colors, but then flickered and disappeared as pale sky replaced the walls and ceiling of the sitting room. Soft grass cushioned Lu’s bare feet, reminding her of summertime in the fields beyond the stable. The limited view from outside the book didn’t do justice to Sarkány’s world. Clear skies lent the perfect view of distant, snowcapped mountains and endless green prairies dotted with purple, yellow, and pink patches. Flowers. I remember the flowers. A forest of mammoth oak trees lay to her near left. The Talking Tree Woods. All the places she’d wanted to visit as a child when she dreamed at night. “Sarkány, are you here?” The distinctive flap of dragon wings had her turning toward the woods. A glint of red reflected the sunlight. Joy at the sight of her dear friend eased a small part of the immense

 

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ache in her heart, and tears wetted her cheeks. “Sarkány!” The rush of wind almost knocked her to the ground as the dragon grabbed at the earth with her long talons to land. Her wings folded against her sides in a graceful movement, and golden eyes sparkled at Lu. The nudge of a snout on Lu’s shoulder made her laugh through her tears. “Are you glad to be home?” Wrapping her arms around the dragon’s neck, she rested her head on the sleek scales. Sarkány’s low rumbling purr vibrated through Lu’s chest. “I feel like I’m home here, too, even without Amalric and Ranulf.” Lu’s voice squeaked when she said the names of her lovers, her throat too tight to speak. She blinked at the hot tears blurring her vision. “What am I supposed to do without them?” A sob escaped before she could stop it, and a wing wrapped around to cradle her. Somehow, the quiet comfort of the dragon let her purge a portion of the loss in her heart—enough for Lu to notice a scar on the outer tip of Sarkány’s bat-like wing. She caressed the puckered line with her fingertip, careful to use a delicate touch. “This is my fault. Someone from my world tried to hurt you.” Gold eyes met Lu’s gaze, and the dragon moved her head from side to side. Another purr rumbled out of her mouth with a burst of clove-scented breath as she nuzzled Lu’s arm. Sarkány lowered her snout, bumping Lu sideways against her scaled shoulder and lifting her off the ground. Lu grasped at the smooth surface as she rose high enough to reach the rough ridges along the creature’s spine. “What are you doing?” With another nudge, Lu swung her leg over the dragon’s back and settled over the massive shoulders. A sudden extension of accordion wings had her holding on for dear life. Muscles bunched and stretched beneath her thighs as flapping began, and the ground fell away. She was airborne on the back of her mythical friend, flying over colorful rolling hills toward ever-growing mountains.

 

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The beauty of the scenery stole her breath as much as the rushing wind in her face, making her forget everything but the amazing realm of imagination. No more dreams—dreams were reality in this place. Total escape was attainable, and time stood still. **** Standing just outside the tree line of the forest, Lu studied the position of the sun. Two, maybe three o’clock. Five days had passed since she’d spelled herself into Sarkány’s world. Her first hours in this place had been a respite from her life, her broken heart, and her responsibilities. Each successive day had offered a little less peace and forgetfulness. Sleeping under the stars, swimming in crystal clear lakes, and running through grassy meadows reminded too much of the time she’d spent in the tapestry. Any more self-reflection, and she’d go crazy. That morning, she’d awakened to a yearning to see her family— the people who’d never let her down. The ones she’d probably caused a great deal of worry. She reached up to touch the mostly healed cut on her bicep. Her cousin would be pissed if Lu wasn’t home when the stitches were due to be removed. Stop trying to come up with more reasons to return. Isn’t facing reality reason enough? Running away hadn’t brought true escape. A puff of warm breath on her neck made her smile. “I know, Sarkány. It’s time. I’ll miss you.” The dragon nibbled Lu’s shoulder and gave a low rumble. The vibrations sent a tremor through the ground. “I’ll share your book with my sisters’ and cousins’ children so they can...” Lu tried to force the words past the lump in her throat that had formed from knowing she’d never have Amalric’s and Ranulf’s babies. They wouldn’t come. Only tears came unbidden. “I wish...” How would she spell herself home when she couldn’t even speak?

 

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Hopefully, no one had moved any of the elements of the charm in her absence. If Ilona got her hands on the stone or the candle, Lu’d probably end up in Oz. Maybe she could replace the Wicked Witch of the West. She swallowed and turned to hug her first and best childhood friend. “Good-bye, Sarkány. Be happy.” A dozen steps took her to the spot where she’d arrived almost a week ago. Facing east, she pulled in a slow breath then exhaled as she closed her eyes and opened her mind. “Please send me home to family, As I must face my destiny. To Macska mansion I return Where the candle still does burn. Make it so and all harm-free. So mote it be and blessed be.” The spicy sweet aroma of cloves, flowers, and trees faded as she spoke the words, giving way to the familiar scent of herbs and warm wax. The air changed from pleasantly warm to the slight chill of November in Ohio. “Aunt Lu!” Arms grabbed her around the waist and squeezed. “You’re back!” Natalia. Rebeka can’t be far. Opening her eyes and smoothing a palm over her niece’s soft hair, Lu spied her sister on the couch. A frown told Lu that a motherly lecture was in her future. Just what she didn’t want or need. “Are you okay?” Rebeka stood, reaching out to grasp Lu’s hand. “We were so worried.” Lu shrugged. Okay? She couldn’t possibly explain the lack of rightness. “I’ll survive.” She debated apologizing for causing concern among her family, but she couldn’t dredge up enough guilt to make an apology sound

 

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sincere. Missing them didn’t mean she was in the mood to grovel. “You shouldn’t have left without telling someone. Great Grandmother isn’t too pleased with you right now.” “Yeah, well, she’ll get over it.” Probably not a wise attitude, considering Romána’s role as matriarch—although Lu had little sympathy for someone who’d never lost her two loves to a rug on a wall. Great Aunt Magdolna was the only person with an inkling of her loss. Easing out of Natalia’s embrace, she leaned over to blow out the candle on the coffee table and remove the hematite oval from the seam of the book. It flipped closed. “I’m taking a shower. What’d you make for lunch?” Rebeka’s frown deepened. “I’ve lost someone special, too. Pushing everyone away doesn’t help. Come on, Natalia. Aunt Lu needs a time-out to think about how we respect other people’s feelings.” Stifling an eye-roll, Lu kissed her niece on the top of her head. “Want to read with me later?” “You’ll be busy later, Aunt Lu. Did you forget tonight is the thirdquarter moon? The ceremony begins at seven.” Lujza’s stomach cramped at the reminder. “I’m skipping it.” Her sister shook her head. “Great Grandmother might allow you to proclaim yourself mateless. I’m going to do so on the next thirdquarter moon.” Mateless. It sounded more like a prognosis than a proclamation, and making an announcement in front of the family meant humiliation on top of a lifetime without Ranulf and Amalric. “I’m not attending.” Rebeka rubbed her hand on Lu’s back. “Everyone saw how happy you were. They won’t fault you for not wanting to try again. We all believed Amalric and Ranulf were your mates.” They are, in my heart. “It doesn’t change anything. I have no interest in going.” “I’ll be back in half an hour with your lunch. And you are going to the ceremony tonight.”

 

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Before Lu could think of a retort, her sister hurried out of the bedroom with her skirt shooshing around her legs. The outer door clicked closed as if uttering the final word. **** Lu was tempted to leave her arms bare for the entire Macska clan to view at the ceremony immediately following supper. The two slashes on her skin had turned pink, and her cousin had removed the stitches from the worst cut after the late lunch, leaving a slightly reddened and puckered stripe on Lu’s left bicep. A glance in the vanity mirror convinced her that being clad in black from head to toe was statement enough of her mood. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of the matching sweater and pulled it on over her tank top. A pair of black flats completed the somber outfit. “Take that off!” Rebeka’s order made Lu jump. Her sister and niece stood at the bedroom door. “Great Grandmother will be so disappointed in your lack of respect. No one has said anything negative about what happened, and we certainly would never banish you.” “Why are you sad, Aunt Lujza?” Natalia walked to Lu, reaching out to hug her around the waist. “I’ve missed reading with you. Bright colors will make you feel better. Come on, I’ll help you pick out some pretty clothes to wear for the ceremony.” Tugging on Lu’s hand, the little girl led her to the closet, immediately grasping a flowered skirt. “This one. With this top. And you should have bare feet to show that you belong to the Earth.” Unable to deny her only niece, Lu nodded and shot her sister a frown. “I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you, Natalia.” A few minutes later, they left the suite, following the long hallway to the staircase. As they neared the study, Lu slowed her pace and blinked her eyes against a wave of lightheadedness.

 

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Pausing at the entry to the study, she shook her head when her mind saw the tapestry with her two knights. Her feet refused to move forward. “I can’t do this. I can’t.” “But they’re waiting for you, Aunt Lujza.” Natalia’s expectant expression blurred. “I don’t feel well.” Lu put a hand on the doorjamb for balance. A strong arm circled her shoulders, guiding her to the closest couch as she forced her vision away from the far wall of the study. Adam helped her settle on the cushions. “Somebody get a cool washcloth. She looks like she’s about to pass out.” A dozen sounds faded in and out, but Romána’s authoritative tone stayed steady near Lu’s ear as someone placed a damp cloth on her forehead. “Bring a cup of tea. We must begin the ceremony. It is time.” “The candles are lit, and everyone has taken their places, Great Grandmother.” Lu recognized Kata’s voice. A hand raised her head, and the rim of a cup touched her lips. “Drink, Lujza.” She swallowed a sip of tea, its warmth reaching all the way to her stomach. Gathering her courage, she tried to speak the only words she needed to say. “I wish to...to proclaim—” “No, child. I will not permit it.” Great Grandmother lifted the washcloth from Lu’s face as she stood. “You must obey the rules of the ritual. Stand before your family as I recite the necessary pronouncements.” Adam offered his hand. “I’ll help you to your place. Everything will be all right, Lu. I promise.” He grinned. “You can turn me into a toad if I’m wrong.” His teasing didn’t spark her temper as it usually did. Instead, it made her want to cry. He seemed to be genuinely trying to cheer her spirits. She took his hand and let him assist her to her feet. “I don’t think Kata would like that, and only one thing can make everything all

 

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right.” “Trust me, Lu.” Ignoring his cryptic words, she walked with him to the fireplace. She turned to look at her family. Time to get this fiasco over with. Rather than the smiles they donned at the joining of Kata and her mates, they displayed serious dispositions. This was no celebration. “Lujza, my daughter, tonight is the third-quarter moon of your fertility cycle.” Romána rested her hand on Lu’s shoulder. “Did you find a mate, or mates, during this period of renewal?” “No.” The answer felt wrong coming out of her mouth. Amalric and Ranulf were her mates in every way that mattered. Why should she have to deny them? “Yes.” “Which is it, daughter?” Pinned down by the piercing gaze of her grandmother, Lu fought for the bravery to challenge the ridiculous tradition that only pairing with a true mate could produce a child. “I found my mates.” Romána’s intense stare didn’t end. “Will you bear a daughter to carry on the Macska line?” Anger broke the dam holding in Lu’s emotions. She met Great Grandmother’s stern countenance and straightened her spine. “Why does that matter? I love Ranulf and Amalric with all my heart and soul. How can they not be my mates? I don’t need babies to know they’re part of me. I want to join with them! I want them back!” “Would you pledge yourself to them for life in the tradition of your ancestors?” “Yes! I would risk ostracism from this family to be with them. They are my mates!” Lu closed her eyes and fisted her hands, frustration boiling in her veins. “Aunt Lujza?” Natalia’s question penetrated the thick fog of exasperation. “I told you about the babies you’re going to have. That makes the knights your true mates, doesn’t it?” “Aye, it does. Is that not correct, Amalric?” Lu’s eyes flew wide at the sound of Ranulf’s voice to her left.

 

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“Aye, my friend.” A collective gasp went up from the gathering, except for the old woman at Lu’s side. They’re here? They came back to me? Another wave of dizziness swept over her. “We will join with Lu, matriarch. Our love and loyalty lies with her and extends to the Macska clan.” Ranulf strode toward her from the entrance of the study. “I give my life to you, Lujza Macska.” “I also give my life to you, love.” Amalric fell into step beside Ranulf. When they stood before her, each grasped one of her hands, their warmth seeping into her. “Your declaration is vow enough for me.” Romána rounded the trio, setting a wrinkled palm over their clasped hands. “I give the blessings of the Goddess and the family to this union. Love well, my children, and welcome your offspring with open arms.” “But...but I didn’t conceive. Mother confirmed it.” Lu’s head swam with confusion. How could they welcome offspring they weren’t able to make? With a smile, Great Grandmother moved her hands to rest on Lu’s abdomen. “Natalia’s gift differs from yours, Lujza. She recognizes what will be in the future if life proceeds according to plan. You are going to bear your mates’ daughter and son. Your body is attuned to the time cycle of this world, not the one the knights came from.” Amalric caressed her stomach. “Our babes grow inside you, Lu?” Ranulf touched his fingertips to the only empty spot on her belly and sent her a hopeful grin. She looked to Romána who nodded. Lu’s breath caught in her lungs, and a lump formed in her throat. She’d found her true mates, in every sense. “Yes, our babes.” **** Ranulf followed Amalric and Lu into their apartment, closing and

 

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locking the door behind him. Five long strides took him across the sitting room to the bedroom and their marriage bed. Five nights of sleeping in a guest room in the opposite wing of the mansion had been torture. He’d lain awake for hours, missing Lu’s soft curves against him. The days had crept by, trapped in the adjoining parlor so no one would see him and Amalric. Only Aaron and Adam had known of their presence—and the matriarch. Reaching for his mate, Ranulf frowned when she pulled away. “I can’t believe you let me think you’d gone back into the tapestry.” She perched her fists on her hips. “I thought you were dead, that I’d never see you again.” Amalric began undressing. “Romána threatened to send us back if we tried to come to you. She said you needed time to heal and to regain your fighting spirit.” “And another thing. Why are you talking like that? Did Great Grandmother cast an enchantment over you?” Ranulf unfastened the last button on his shirt. “We are under no spells, sweet Lu. Only to assist during our lessons. Kata’s mates have taught us to speak in this modern English.” “They knew?” Her brows drew downward. “Now, I’m definitely turning Adam into a toad.” With a laugh, Amalric shed his socks. “He was sworn to silence by Romána and does not think you would commit such a spiteful crime against him. He says he enjoys sparring words with you.” Kicking off his shoes, Ranulf unzipped his pants. “No more talk. Remove your garments. I wish to play with your tits, Lu.” “They taught you to talk dirty?” Her smile suggested she approved. Amalric tossed his jeans to the floor. “We asked for explanation of words you have spoken since we were unsure of their meanings. Adam and Aaron were most helpful. Perchance, you would like for me to lick your pussy? I’m certain Ranulf would enjoy watching you have an orgasm while he masturbates.”

 

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Her raucous laughter caught Ranulf off guard. “This is like bawdy vocabulary class. Let’s see how many naughty words I can use to answer you. Yes, Amalric, I would love for you to give my clit a tongue massage. However, I don’t think Ranulf needs to jack off since I’m more than willing to give him a blowjob.” “Will you swallow my cum, sweet Lu?” Ranulf stalked her around the bed. “If Amalric cannot find your G-spot, I will be most pleased to try.” “Shut up, and help me undress.”

 

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Chapter 15 Easing the sleeves off Lu’s shoulders and down her arms, Amalric didn’t try to resist the urge to kiss the fading scars from her battle with the straw man. He understood why she had chosen to put herself in harm’s way, even as he was thankful she hadn’t succeeded in her plan. Life without her would’ve been no life at all. “I have missed you, love.” He touched his lips to her exposed skin, savoring the softness. “I am greatly pleased that we are now wedded to you.” “As am I.” Ranulf worked her skirt past her hips. “I can smell your desire, Lu. Such a sweet scent.” “Then let’s do something about it, mates.” The invitation in her voice made Amalric smile. He picked her up to lay her in the middle of the bed. Ranulf settled beside her, kissing a path from her ear to her chin and then on to her mouth. His hand cupped her breast, massaging the perfect mound of flesh. The tightening of his cock had Amalric climbing up to join them. Before Lu, sharing a woman had never entered his thoughts. Now, he couldn’t imagine a better way to give the woman he cherished more pleasure. He picked up her shapely leg, smoothing his palm over her ankle, up her calf, and to the silken skin at the back of her knee. Gently nudging apart her thighs, he took a moment to appreciate the protective folds hiding her jewel. Moisture glistened on the petals. Unable to resist tasting her, he slicked his tongue through the tangy wetness. “Delicious.”

 

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She arched and moaned, pulling away from Ranulf’s kiss. “I want to blow you while Amalric goes down on me.” Adam’s lessons in present-day sexual terminology helped Amalric translate Lu’s words. “Do you enjoy giving and receiving oral sex?” “With you guys? Oh, yeah.” She wiggled against the mattress. “As soon as you make me come, I want you to fuck me.” “With pleasure, love.” Amalric plunged his tongue into her cunt, imitating the act she requested. A demand for Amalric to skip eating her pussy died on Lu’s lips as he flicked his tongue across her clit at the same moment Ranulf rolled her nipple between his fingertips. She reached for Ranulf’s erection, wrapping her hand around its thick length. A slow stroke up and down had him moaning. His thumb toyed with her hard nub, sending pulsing shocks to her pussy. Amalric sucked on her clitoris and slicked his finger through her wetness. It slid along her crease, and he eased his slippery digit past the tight ring of muscles into her ass. The invasion triggered a flood of euphoria rushing over her body. The sucking changed to flutters, opening the gates. Her cry echoed in her ears as the spasms went on and on, finally beginning to fade as she guided Ranulf’s cock to her mouth. “Inside me! Now! Both of you!” Climbing forward, Amalric hooked his arms under her knees and thrust into her, and Ranulf rocked his hips toward her mouth. They sank deep inside her, their moans blending with hers. Lu lifted a palm to Amalric’s muscular chest and cradled Ranulf’s balls in the other. She was finally connected to her lovers again. A profound sense of completion settled over her heart. Her men pumped into her in a rhythmic pace, taking her higher. The friction brought tingles and tremors. She gave Ranulf’s sac a gentle squeeze and lightly scraped her fingernails across Amalric’s flat male nipple. They growled in unison as another orgasm ripped through her. She arched against them, floating in the gusts of

 

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pleasure. Hot cum warmed her throat and her pussy when they yelled and stiffened together. After several long seconds, they collapsed beside her. Each man draped an arm across her waist and kissed her cheeks. Their ragged breathing gradually slowed. “You must promise to never again ask us to go away.” The beseeching tone in Ranulf’s voice assured Lu that the five-day separation had been as difficult for them as it had been for her. “Never. I promise.” They’d be lucky if she ever let them out of sight. Amalric nuzzled her hair. “Adam and Aaron have taught us the proper manner in which to express our feelings for you. I love you, Lujza.” “I do love you as well, sweet Lu.” Ranulf slid his hand up to rest on her abdomen. “With or without babes.” Happy tears trickled from the corners of her eyes to her hairline. She turned to face Amalric, pressing her lips against his. “I love you with all my heart.” Placing her hand over Ranulf’s, she rotated to look in his eyes. “I love you with all my soul. Thank you for not giving up on us.” Amalric snorted. “A knight does not surrender when his cause is true.”

THE END WWW.MELLANIESZERETO.COM

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR When her fingers aren't attached to her keyboard, Mellanie Szereto enjoys hiking, Pilates, cooking, gardening, and researching for her stories. Many times, the research partners with her other hobbies, taking her from the Hocking Hills region in Ohio to the Colorado Rockies and the Adirondacks of New York. Sometimes, the trip is no farther than her garden for ingredients and her kitchen to test recipes for her latest steamy tale. Mellanie makes her home in rural Indiana with her husband of twenty-five years and their two children, one dog, and three cats. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and Indiana Romance Writers of America.

Also by Mellanie Szereto Ménage Amour: Bewitching Desires 1: Two if by Sea

Also by The Sextet Ménage Everlasting: The Sextet Anthology, Volume 1: Sharing Ménage Everlasting: The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2: Dirty Dancing Ménage Everlasting: The Sextet Anthology, Volume 3: Occupational Hazards Available at BOOKSTRAND.COM

 

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