“Cease your torture, faerie woman! I can bear no more,” he admitted to her.

Lara rose long enough to collapse upon the mattress, her legs open and hanging over it. “Come, my lord, and take what you have so long yearned for,” she invited him.

He knelt down. “First, faerie woman, you must suffer as you have made me suffer,” he told her. His tongue licked swiftly up the inside of one thigh and down the other. It flickered down her shadowed slit, pushing between her nether lips, seeking out her sensitive spot. Her whimper told him when he had found it. His mouth tugged on the little nub of flesh until she was writhing upon the mattress. Satisfied at last he stood, and, sliding his hands beneath her hips, Roan drew Lara to him, sheathing her slowly until he was deep. Then he began to pump her.

Lara’s entire body relaxed as he filled her and began to work his great manhood back and forth. As he moved faster and deeper, her head began to spin with the pleasure that began to arise from deep within her. “Do not stop,” she cried out to him. “Use this mare as long as you can, my great stallion! Deeper! Aah, that is it! Yes!”

Her words seemed to excite him further, and Lara could have sworn that his manhood become thicker and harder within her. She wrapped her legs about his torso, and, well mounted now, he released his hold upon her hips, reaching out instead to grasp her full breasts, squeezing them hard, and leaning forward so he might suckle her, and bite her tempting nipples while his great manhood pistoned her until Lara was moaning with the pleasure he was giving her. Finally unable to bear any more of this delight, she released her juices, screaming softly as she did.

At the sound of her voice raised in pleasured agony the Horse Lord spilled his own juices, and roared with his open pleasure. It was difficult to stop pumping her, for his lust was hot and highly engaged. At last he managed to withdraw from her, and collapsed next to her upon the mattress. When he found his voice again he said, “You are even more magnificent than I imagined, my beauty. You were well worth the wait.”

“And you, my lord Roan, are to be complimented for your tender vigor,” Lara told him. Rolling over, she nipped at his shoulder. “I want more of you.”

“You are the boldest female I have ever known,” he said.

“I am an honest woman, my lord Roan,” she responded. “The night is new, and I have many pleasures to share with you before the dawn comes. Do you think a woman is only to be taken upon her back?” And Lara laughed at the look of surprise upon his rough, handsome face. “You are more than well equipped to play stallion to my mare. I am not surprised you have eight wives, and I will wager none pleases you as I have pleased you in these last few minutes.”

“My women are gentle and complaisant,” he replied. “A man likes a woman who knows her place.”

“Was not the pleasure you just had with me better than any you have previously known?” Lara demanded to know. “It was, and you lie if you say otherwise!”

He roared with his laughter, admitting, “Aye, I have never known pleasures such as we have just shared. Why is that?”

“Because I am as you have proclaimed, bold. I am your equal, Roan. Indeed I am your superior! You do not know what to expect of me. I am not ordinary. We could not be wed to one another, my lord, but we will be grand lovers if you will trust me, and follow my lead. Do you think you can, Horse Lord?”

She was the most exciting woman he had ever know. “Aye,” he said. “Lead on!”

Lara jumped up. Following her, he climbed through the narrow window, and out into a moonlit field where she knelt in the sweet grass. He mounted her as a stallion would a mare, thrusting deep, biting her neck, roaring with pleasure as she squealed and bucked beneath him. She was pure magic, and more than well worth his long wait.

8

ALFRIGG, CHANCELLOR TO THE imprisoned Twilight Lord, Kol, was troubled. Of late he had heard rumors that someone outside the Dark Lands sought for his master’s twin sons. But he could not determine for certain if the whispers on the wind were true. Or, if the rumors were truth, then who was it looking for Kolbein and Kolgrim? And why were they seeking them out? Alfrigg’s brown eyes were thoughtful. His gnarled fingers clasped and unclasped as he considered what to do.

Rising from the dais step where he had been seated, the old dwarf began to pace about the chamber with its silver-veined black marble walls. The tall silver censers that had once lined the room were dark but for one, which burned with a feeble flame. This was the throne room of his master, silent now but for the sound of his booted footsteps. Reaching the tarnished silver double doors, he turned, and began to pace back toward the gray and silver throne upon its matching dais. The purple-and-silver-striped silk canopy over the throne was faded, the deteriorating fabric hanging in shreds. Beyond the black marble colonnade to his left the darkened skies thundered with an impending storm.

How he wished his master were here. But no one knew what had happened to Kol, or where he was. Yet Alfrigg had pretended that he did, and had run his master’s kingdom ever since the Twilight Lord’s disappearance. No one had dared to question the dwarf, for their fear of Kol was greater than their curiosity. The twin princes had been sent away in their infancy to be fostered. Kolbein going to a family of Wolfyn and Kolgrim to a family of giants. Alfrigg was the only one who knew where they were. And now an unknown someone sought them.

Could it be the faerie woman who had given them life? He would not know unless he asked. Did he dare approach Lara? But why would she want to know the whereabouts of her sons unless it was to destroy them? Perhaps Kol was dead, and if she killed his heirs did she believe her victory over the Dark Lands would be complete?

There was another possibility he hated to even consider. Kol’s daughters. But why would they search out their half brothers? He had seen that three of the four of his master’s daughters who survived infancy and childhood were married off to those who could be of use to Kol one day. Only one, the Darkling Ciarda, remained unwed. He smiled a small smile. Ciarda was so much like her father. She had been born several years before Kol took the faerie woman for his mate. And her mother had been fortunate in not retaining Kol’s favor, for several of the women who did were killed when he had mated with Lara to produce a male heir. Alfrigg had to admit to himself that he had always had a grandfatherly weakness for Ciarda. He would speak with her before he made any decisions.

The chancellor sent for Kol’s daughter, and marveled at her beauty when she came to stand before him. She was as pale as moonlight with her father’s ebony hair, and silver-gray eyes that changed color with her moods. He tried to recall what her mother had been like, but he could not. Ciarda stood before his chair, which was set upon a lower step on the throne’s dais. She waited patiently for him to speak.

“There are rumors,” Alfrigg’s reedy voice began, “of someone seeking out your brothers, my lady Ciarda. Is it you? Or would you know who would look for the twins?”

“It is not I, my lord Alfrigg,” she answered him, eyes lowered properly as they should be. “Why, I wonder, would someone seek out my brothers?”

“Perhaps to destroy Kol’s male heirs,” the chancellor said, not really meaning to discuss serious matters with a mere female. Still, Ciarda was wiser than most women.

“Oooh! That is terrible, my lord! We must protect my brothers for my father’s sake,” Ciarda said to him. Then she blushed. “Forgive me, my lord Alfrigg. You will have already thought of that. I should not have been so bold. Punish me if you will.” She hung her dark head in shame.

Alfrigg immediately felt a burst of compassion. The girl had meant no harm. She merely wanted to help. “Nay, my child, you need no punishment. You are but anxious to be of assistance.” Reaching out, he took her hand, and patted it before dropping it again.

“Oh, thank you, my lord,” Ciarda gushed. Old fool, she thought. When the Dark Lands are mine to rule I will twist your head off myself. Creatures like you can never accept that women are capable of ruling, and I shall rule!

“Then if it is not you searching for the princes it has be someone from outside our lands. Certainly they mean Kol’s sons harm, else they would come to me,” he muttered as if speaking to himself. And then remembering the girl he said, “I thank you for coming, my lady Ciarda. I will give your father your loving regards. He had begun to consider a suitable husband for you, my dear.”

“I want no husband,” Ciarda said in a suddenly hard voice that caused Alfrigg to look at her more closely.

“Lady, you must have a man to guide you. You are female,” Alfrigg reminded her. He noted her eyes had engaged his briefly, and were dark with her displeasure. For a brief moment Alfrigg was reminded strongly of the Twilight Lord himself, and was rendered speechless. She was Kol in female form, he thought uncomfortably. But then before he might remonstrate with her Ciarda curtsied politely to him.

“I will go now, my lord Alfrigg,” she said and, turning, went through the tarnished silver doors of the throne room.

The dwarf hummed beneath his breath thoughtfully for a long moment. As fond as he was of Kol’s daughter he was no fool. He never had been, which was why he had managed to retain his position as the Twilight Lord’s chancellor. His keen instincts had been the key to his survival. He would set a watch upon Ciarda. He had seen a ruthlessness in her today that both surprised and worried him. He had known women in his day who were ambitious. He shuddered. They were unnatural creatures.