JOYCE
She had to have heard that wrong. "I'm sorry… who?"
Sung shifted his weight, and the expression on his face reminded her of a ten-year-old boy who had been caught stealing cookies. If her heart had not been dropping like a stone, she might have laughed about having seen him, this massive man, the king, so shamefaced.
"It was Lucine," he murmured, his eyes searching hers.
Joyce pulled her hands out of his grip. "The one… you are telling me that the woman that killed all those people and who wanted to kill me, you… had sex with her?"
He nodded.
"But I thought… I thought they were all virgins, like me?"
"They were supposed to be," he croaked. "When she approached me, she broke the rite, told me she was the chosen sacrifice for the wolves, and convinced me… she was certain she would win and we would be together. I knew she was right, had you not been there, Joyce, she would be my mate and my queen, and my skin crawls just speaking those words, but they are true," he said fiercely.
Joyce's entire body recoiled from him, and he saw it. He winced.
"Joyce, you cannot think; you must know it was not what I desired or would have chosen. You know my heart lives because you are here, and I would not change a thing about that. I wish… I regret that night. Deeply and not just for us. I regret it for Lucine and the place it has left her. I would not have been tempted if I knew you were coming. I forced myself to do it because I thought I had to find a way with her, and I was afraid, honestly. I did not want to combine my bloodline with the wolves and Lucine…" he trailed off miserably.
But something inside Joyce broke when he said that woman's name like it was so comfortable for him. Like he knew her.
The Final Truth – Part 4
JOYCE
Joyce shuddered. She needed to move. Find a way to make this fit into her view of him. He had touched that woman? Had sex with her? Kissed her, argh!
"Sung, I…" she trailed off, her skin itching. She pushed off the sleeping platform and began pacing the floor before him.
Sung went very still, his eyes never leaving her face.
She knew him. She did. She did not know how it had happened so quickly, but he was under the skin, and she knew him. He was hers, heart and soul. She did not doubt it, but when she tried to open her mouth and tell him that, all she could see in her mind was his mouth on Lucine's. Their bodies entwined the physical power of the wolf-woman and probable instinctive prowess of the Anima…
Joyce clawed her hands into her hair. "Why didn't you tell me?" She was not even angry but felt fragile. It seemed like every time she turned around right now, something wanted to bite her.
No pun intended.
"Joyce, it was nothing. I regretted it the minute it was done, but I thought I had to make the most of it if we were to be mated. I never imagined… you have to know, she has no part of my heart -"
"I know that I do," she said, but there was no softness in her tone, and she could tell Sung could feel it. Joyce ran a shaky hand through her hair. "How did it happen? I mean, how did people not know? It seems like they know everything about you and me!"
"They know because you and I are true mates," he said softly, standing from the sleeping platform and stepping towards her. She shot him a warning look, and he stopped moving closer but did not stop talking. "Our connection is a soul tie, Joyce. If Lucine and I had mated in that way, the flames, smoke, and ceremony, they would have been able to scent that too. But when we did this, it was … it was just sex."
"Just sex," Joyce snorted, halfway between tears and rage. "Just sex. Just the thing I waited for, just the entire city talked to me about for a week before -" She cut herself off. She stopped pacing and closed her eyes momentarily, trying to shake off the mental images of Lucine tangled up with Sung, even worse, of Sung taking her. Tangling himself with her! She was a beautiful woman and even younger than Joyce; Joyce swallowed. "How did it happen? I mean…" her face went wide with horror. "Did she come here, and did you guys have sex in our bed?" She turned her head to stare at the bed. Her skin crawled as if she had just discovered it was full of snakes.
"No! Joyce, no! It was nothing like that. It was weeks before… We had a feast, and I had drunk a little too much. It was late, and I went to the fields alone to enjoy the creator and stare at the stars. But she must have seen me leave because she showed up where I was lying in the grass, and… we talked. And she told me that she would be the sacrifice for the rite, which hit me hard. I did not even want to do it! Then she talked about how so much would be happening during those days… she knew she would win. Was completely confident. It was, as far as she was concerned, a foregone conclusion. And honestly? I thought she was right. and I was so angry about it. I hate the rites. When she offered herself, it was her idea. I did not ask; I was still… I do not know. I wanted to do something to prove to myself that I was not ruled by this barbarian thing we had to do. But with Lucine? It was not even in my head. And at first, I tried to put her off. Politely, but she was insistent, and I was drunk, and… does it matter?"
"You had sex with her outside? Alone?" No, it didn't matter because Joyce's heart was already broken.
Sung blinked. "Yes, I… why does that make your face so sad, my love?"
"Because it is on my list," she said, and her voice cracked. "It is the first thing on my list, Sung! We are never alone. It seems like… we are never just us. Unless we are in here. And… I love being outside, but… everyone can smell bloody everything. Or hear it. it… I was hoping we could drop the guards and get to be out there, together, alone. But you have already done that. So, I get it; it is not as special for you-"
"No, Joyce. Do not say that. Never say that," Sung looked like he had been stabbed. "This, with you, is precious. Far more special than anything I have done with anyone before, ever. There is not even a comparison. I wish… I wish I could open my head and my heart to you so you could see for yourself. I do not lie. You are utterly precious to me, and what happens between us… it… moves me".
He stepped closer, and she didn't stop him this time. He moved slowly, watching her, waiting for her to deny him. But the truth was, she did not want to. That is why it hurt so badly; she wanted his comfort. Needed it, but it was he who had caused the pain! Her heart was so confused. She dropped her gave in her hands, her teeth gritted, not against tears, but frustration.
When would this get easier? When would she be able to just be with her husband, her mate, and not have to wonder what else waited around the corner to trap her? Or kill her? Or humiliate her?
"Joyce, please love," he whispered. "Let me hold you." When she didn't object, he put his arms around her, pulling her into his chest.
She leaned into his steel warmth, inhaling the pine and rain that utterly masculine, wholly unique scent of him, and clung onto him.
"What is in my past is past, Joyce," he said, his voice deep and serious. "I have made mistakes, and there are things I regret. But the only way I can show you is to learn from them and not do them again."
"You are too…you are too much!" she squeaked into his chest.
"What?"
"You are too nice. I know I am not perfect, Sung! I know I mess up, too and don't even know it most of the time. I know I have done things I regret, and it is not fair to be mad at you for something you did when you didn't even know I was going to be here, but…."
He stroked her hair back off her face. "But what?"
"But it hurts! Every time I see her, all I will see is your hands on her and hers on you and… ugh!" She covered her eyes again as if she could escape the mental images. "And you know what makes me mad? Lucine, of all people and whoever else you have had over the years, you were sowing your kingly oats or whatever. They have this piece of you that I can't have because I am so damn weak here that we can't just live. I want to just live, Sung! I want to just live with you, be out together, alone. Not have guards standing over me, sniffing everything, kiss you in the trees without worrying that a kid can hear us if things go further! I want to go for a meal and not have everyone know what we did the night before; I just… I want something to be sacred that is just between us. These women, they have all had that with you and I… I have not…" she finished lamely.
Sung's fingers tightened in her hair, and his eyes lit fiercely. "Give me an hour," he said.
Foolish King
SUNG
He cursed himself for his stupidity. He could not believe it had not occurred to him earlier. He had known she was bothered by the lack of privacy, but of course, it made her feel like others and him in a way she hadn't! Of course, she was sick of always being around other people. For the creator's sake, they had been split up for almost the entire first week! How had it not occurred to him that she wanted time more than just the nights alone? He cursed himself roundly and squeezed her hard before murmuring promises. Told her to find some comfortable clothing to change into and not worry about anything. He was going to take care of everything.
"What? What are you going to do?"
"I am going to make sure that you know that everything we have is worlds better than anything I have had with anyone else, Joyce," he said firmly. "Anyone."
"But I have to -"
"You have to feel strong. You have to feel certain, and you have to know who you are and what you deserve. Trust me, we need this, both of us, and it will help you walk into the people tomorrow as their queen."
She stared at him for a long moment, and he stared back, determined, until she nodded. "Okay."
"Comfortable clothes and water skins," he reminded her. "And patience," he said dryly. "It may take me an hour to make this happen."
"Okay," she said uncertainly.
He kissed her quickly, then started for the door, but before he stepped through, he paused and turned back. "And Joyce?"
"Yes?"
"Wear your hair down? For me?"
She smiled. "Sure."
He winked and disappeared out the door.
JOYCE
He was less than an hour. When he returned, she had put on a pair of looser leather pants and a flowing white blouse. She combed her hair, hoping the curls that had twisted into it from the bun she had been wearing earlier would stay.
He stalked into the bedroom, where she put away the clothes she'd had on earlier. He strode up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, running his nose along her shoulder and into her neck, inhaling deeply.
For a split second, she was reminded of that moment in the rite when she had been back up against the tree, and he had done the same thing on her collarbone, and her mouth dropped open. "You knew it was me!" she said, turning in his arms.
He pulled his head up, eyes hooded, and blinked to focus. "What was that?"
"That first night, at the rite, you knew it was me. You introduced yourself immediately and made that big show of scenting me. I thought it was creepy, Sung. But it gave me goosebumps too. It was… it was all bizarre."
He gave a lazy, lopsided smile. "I knew you did not recognise me. I wasn't just going to rush up and kiss you. Trust me, that would have been creepier," he grinned.
She huffed a little laugh, but the truth was, she was still feeling flat and uncertain after such a disaster of a day, and she was still struggling with the images in her head of Sung and Lucine.
But she was determined to give herself the best chance to get past it, so she would go with him now, whatever he thought would help her feel stronger. She would face it, and then… then they would figure the rest out.
So, when he took her hand and led her out of the room, she went willingly, hoping that, at the very least, it would help her stop seeing those claw marks on Sung's back and wondering whether Lucine was the one who had made them.
To her surprise, he did not head for the front door but turned left out of the bedroom and towards the back of the cave, beyond the kitchen, to the door that led to the bathing pools.
"Sung, what?" she asked when he opened the door.
"You will see," he said with a smile, pulling her through.
Joyce's mind shifted as soon as she entered that space. She had wanted to come back here and loved their moments. But they were dressed and… surely, they would not bathe?
No, he led her to the shallowest area between the pools, where the water overlapped on the rocks and made them look like figure eight. Then he continued onto the rocky outcropping beyond it, near the waterfall.
When he arrived, he dropped to his knees before her, just as he had in the smoke. "Get up," he said, his voice smooth and warm.
"What? Why?"
He looked at her over his shoulder, and his eyes glinted. "Because we are going to get started on that list, but to do that, we have to get out of here without anyone knowing where we are. And this is a tough climb, so I am guessing it will go faster if I carry you."
"Climb? Where?" She stared at the rock face in front of her, it was rough and cracked, but she could see no ledges or paths up it.
"Oh! Right! Wait, one second," Sung said, smiling sheepishly. He leapt to his feet and trotted over to the waterfall, reaching into the water to tug at something, then pulling it a few feet over, watching the light above them.
Joyce gasped as a rope ladder made of vines appeared. A vine ladder swung out from behind the sheet of water and wavered in front of her. She gaped, looking up and up! At what had to be eighty feet or more directly above their heads, the vines tumbled into the space from the wilderness beyond. "We are climbing up there?"
"I am. You are riding."
"I- what?"
"It is a rope ladder, Joyce. Trust me."
"But-"
He stepped up to her and took her arms gently. "You need to be stronger for the people," he said softly. "And I am going to help you do that too. But for now, I think something up there will strengthen us. You and me. You do not need to be strong for me, Joyce. When you are with me, it is okay to lean or be carried. You carry me in other ways. So, let me do this for you, please?"
"Okay," she said finally. "Show me."
He knelt before her again and smiled, "Get on."
Just Us
JOYCE
Joyce felt terrible. He was breathing heavily by the time they made it to the top, the first time she had seen him have to push himself physically. He was right; she never would have made it up here alone. But he had done it quickly and happily, panting but not slowing as they climbed rung after rung to reach that ever-brightening hole in the rock above them.
When they finally reached the lip of it, and Sung lifted his head over the side, with Joyce clinging to his neck and peering over his shoulder, she gasped. They were on the side of a mountain. To Joyce's left, the mountainside was rugged and grey continued in the sky. But before them, there was a flat of land, a small, teardrop-shaped bowl with the hole where they stood at its narrowest point, widening from there and sloping gently upwards to a flat area about the size of Joyce's college apartment at the top. A small cluster of trees perched on the edge where it met the mountainside, and a few bushes and scrubs lined the right before it plummeted back down to the clearing at the front of the cave. At least, if Joyce had her bearings, that is where it was. She could not see over the side and thought that was likely a very good thing.
Sung grunted, heaving them up and out of the hole, finally grasping the tree stump a couple of feet from where the ladder had been fixed with thick vines circling it. He knelt again, and still gaping, Joyce slid off his back to her feet.
"Sung… this is beautiful," she breathed.
All around her were the sky, trees, rock, and… no one else. No one. She started towards that edge, intending to look and see if they could see the clearing below, but he caught her wrist.
"If you lean over the edge, you will be silhouetted by the sky. The guards will see movement and look for us in case an intruder is above the cave," he said quietly. Very quietly.
She smiled. They can't see us here?"
"Or scent us. The air flows up this side of the mountain. And they would not hear us as long as we were quiet."
Joyce felt her smile grow. "We are alone. Truly alone?"
"Truly alone," he said thoughtfully. "I am sorry, Joyce, I had not thought you needed this. I grew up always being around my family and the pride. It is odd for Anima to spend many hours by themselves. Scenting is something we do without thought. And even though they won't think twice about scenting sex on you… I understand that is not how it is for you. So, while I can't guarantee that no one will figure out what we have been up to, this is the best I can do to ensure they won't know anything about it."
She turned back to the view and almost lost her breath. The Wildwood spread out below her, the canopy of trees looking like springy grass and fluffy green clouds below them. Hints of movement and colour flashed between the trees at times. Still, from this distance, Tree City was virtually invisible.
"Thank you, Sung," she said, squeezing his hand. "I know that was a horrible climb, but… thank you."
When she turned to look at him, he was staring down at her.
Come over here. It is more comfortable," he said, his breath already easing from the strenuous climb. Joyce followed him, shaking her head at his sheer strength. She felt tiny and insignificant in the amazing outdoors, these impossible surroundings. But it all seemed to fit him. As if he grew when he went outside to match the place. And the area accepted him.
He led her up the gentle rise to the flat area at the top and into the shade of the trees that grew out from the side of the mountain at a diagonal, reaching for the sun beyond the peak above. There a blanket had been spread, and a picnic basket waited.
Joyce's mouth dropped open. "Wait… you already came up here once?"
"Yes, why?"
"Because… that climb… are you not sore?"
"No, should I be?"
She gaped at him, and he stared back, confused.
"Joyce, this is not hard to climb on my own. Climbing with you was much harder than climbing alone, but only because I did not wish to jar you. It takes me a minute just about to get up here on my own."
Joyce shook her head and let herself sink onto the blanket. "No wonder they all think I am weak," she murmured.
"No, you won't focus on that today. That is not why we are here," he said sternly.
Joyce frowned. "You said I needed to feel strong and certain. Is that what we were going to work on here?"
"Not like that, not by… not like that," he grumbled, coming to join her on the blanket, sitting cross-legged in front of her. "Forget about lessons to learn or strengthening. This is a time to just be us, Joyce; like you said, just us, together, alone. No one knows we are here. I did not even tell Erwin. He will have my hide if he finds out we snuck away, so let us pray he does not come looking."
"What if something happens, though?" she asked, though she did not want to give him a reason to reconsider.
But Sung smiled. "That is the beauty of being up here. Sound rises. They will ring the bells if there is a true emergency, and I will be down there in minutes."
Joyce smiled her first genuine smile in hours. "Sounds like you have got everything figured out."
"Well, not everything," he said, frowning. Then he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt forward and over his head, revealing his chest and shoulders. Joyce's mouth went dry.
"What's, uh, what's left?" she asked, distracted by his sheer beauty.
"I don't know," he said, then looked up at her. His hair had been pulled partly over his eyes when he had tugged that shirt forward. He peered at her through it, his gaze suddenly hot and intent. "What is at the top of your list?"
Desire flared in Joyce's belly.
Love in High Places
SUNG
Creator's light, he loved when she got that look on her face. Like she wanted to devour him whole. He had seen the light go on behind her eyes when he pulled his shirt off, so he ran his hand through his hair, pushing it off his face so he could see her clearly, and sat back, leaning on his hands and smiling the lazy smile back. He straightened one leg, so it lay against her hip and waited to see what she would say.
He could see her chest rising and falling more quickly, and his own quickened too. But she did not move. Her eyes started on his but dragged down his neck, chest, stomach… and down. He felt it like a finger on his skin, and his body leapt to meet the touch. If he did not get these pants off soon, he could lose blood flow.
"Joyce?" he said softly, letting his tongue roll over her name.
She blinked and snapped her eyes to his. "Hmm, what?"
"Your list?" he said. "What is on top?"
"The better question might be, who," she said with a wicked grin, and Sung huffed. But she did not move. He raised an eyebrow in a question, and she took a deep breath. "I don't know where to start," she said finally.
"That is easy; tell me what makes you light up. I will take care of the rest."
She blinked again, several times. "Just… tell you."
"What you like, yes."
"In words?"
Sung had to swallow a laugh. "Well, I would have a lot of fun figuring it out, but I think words would be much more efficient. And possibly more fun for you."
Joyce tipped her head. "Is this what you, Anima do? You just sit around talking about sex until one of you decides it is time to do it?"
"No."
They stared at each other, and his heart pounded against his ribs, that thrill of desire dancing low in his belly.
"Then what are you doing, Sung?" she asked finally, breathlessly.
He sat up and leaned forward so their faces were just inches apart. "I am telling my wife that I burn for her, but I burn to make her burn. Tell me, Joyce. What makes you burn? I want to set you alight."
"You do, Sung."
"Then show me."
"Show you what?"
"Show me what makes your heart race, and you lose your breath. What makes your skin feel too tight?" he said in a low growl.
Her eyes never left him, but to his surprise, when she lifted a hand, it was to touch his hair, claw her fingers into the front, and pull pieces forward over his face. When he tried to lift his chin, she shook her head and used a finger to tip it back down until he stared at her from behind strands of his hair.
"That," she whispered. "That lights a spark."
Sung locked his eyes on hers but did not speak because she was not done.
With her lower lip slightly open, she trailed the hands down his neck to the flat of his chest, spreading her fingers and palming his pecs for a moment, then turning it to drag down his ribs. Still, as he did, she ran her thumb over his nipple, and when he tensed, she nodded. "That, too."
Sung's breathing was quick and shallow, but her attention was wholly on him, and she was thinking. He did not want her to become self-conscious, so he forced himself not to move, just watching the flames climb behind her eyes as she dropped her knee and sat cross-legged to bring both hands up to his chest. She held her breath and repeated the touch on his nipple on both sides simultaneously, then brought her hands up to his shoulders and shifted so she could kneel in front of him. The temptation to touch her was overwhelming, but he did not want to distract her.
She scanned him, searching as if choosing where to go first. And he was fascinated.
"Show me," he whispered hoarsely.
Her cheeks coloured, and he traced the hair back off her face as she met his eyes again. "Your neck?"
"It is yours, Joyce," he rasped, his loins leaping.
She nodded and guided his head back to bare his throat. He closed his eyes when she dropped her mouth to it and sucked.
He groaned and shuddered.
"Me too," she whispered. Still gently kissing her way up his neck, she leaned in closer until her breasts brushed his chest, but she was higher than him now. "Your hands," she said.
"Yes?"
"Put them on me. I never want to feel like you are not touching me."
Without hesitation, he sat up and reached for her, turning and unfolding his other leg so she knelt between his knees. "Where?"
"Everywhere."
He growled his approval and took her hips in his hands, but as he pulled her in, intending to give her that attention, he was blocked by her blouse. He tipped his head up to ask, and she took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. Almost frantic.
Taken aback by her need, he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her in, the other sliding up to cup her neck, his thumb at her jaw. And he kissed her back with every yearning within him, all the remorse for her pain, all that heat for her body, every ounce of love that pushed in his veins. He poured it all into her, gasping when she leaned into him and answered with everything inside herself.
Then she lifted her head and stared into his eyes as if afraid. He pulled her in tighter, afraid she was going to run. "Joyce, I-"
"It burns, Sung," she said in a pleading voice. "Everything I feel for you, it all burns. I just want you, that is all. That is what makes me heat. Stop thinking you will break me. Stop acting like you are afraid to go too far. You can't," she whispered. "I want all of it with you. Please… just give me you. You without the leash."
The mating huff erupted from his throat, and he swallowed a roar; they needed to be quiet! He pulled her down to the blanket and cradled her under him, kissing her with a desperation he had never felt before.
His skin trembled like the feeling when he wanted to shift, but instead, it was the need to be against her, over her, within her, to be one.
He needed her like air and would ensure she knew it.