Kieren thought it self-sacrificing that Iona alone brought in the water for his bath. At first he wondered if she was moved by some form of guilt. But when Iona learned that the young girl that usually filled the tub told stories of him being naked, she did not want the young girl in his room ever again. He found it amusing. “Enough,” Kieren demanded. Iona wiped her brow and placed the pail on the floor. “Join me,” he gav...

  If the heat that consumed them was from fire, then it could be said that what covering she did wear merely disintegrated from the intensity. Kieren needed skin. He needed to feel Iona as close to him as possible. He needed the warmth that only Iona could provide. His body needed to touch hers, not just on the surface but on the inside. As his lips devoured hers mercilessly, Iona surrendered completely to the searching o...

The tension between Russ and Iona was subtle and hardly detectable by others. To dwell on what had occurred was advantageous to no one. Of course, there was nothing that escaped the eyes of Brenna. She saw the looks and noticed the new formality between the two. The first moment of opportunity found Brenna scolding Long Sword.   “I hope that you are satisfied with your betrayal, to both Iona and to the brother you love. M...

From that moment onward Iona sought out this Russ called Long Sword. The images he had spun created a need so great that she could physically feel the man she wanted most. With Iona’s exhaustive imagination, she could feel Kieren’s resting on top of her. The press of his awe-inspiring body against the softness of hers felt real—skin on skin, moist from exertion. Behind her closed eyes, she could actually feel his hands sq...

Iona was not sure how long she laid there. A pain in her chest made breathing exhausting. This pain moved through her body till everything ached. Tears were never a general thing with her; she cried till empty. This was worse than physical abuse; that could only break her back. This broke her spirit. Her spirit was her only pride. To her it had value. There were no memories without it. She clung to it. Her spirit was the...

When he closed his eyes, no matter how slight, he could see the movement of her dark, golden skin against the paleness of his own. He could feel it and that was torture. He craved her touch and the mercy that it offered. A good fight in the heart of battle had always brought him great pleasure, great glory. That was where he belonged. Now, she was the only true delight of his heart, a respite from this world’s cruelties....